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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26141563">The Winner Takes it All</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/agoodpersonrose/pseuds/agoodpersonrose'>agoodpersonrose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - 2000s, And then it's alllll Patrick, Angst with a Happy Ending, Especially David Rose, Everyone deserves to run away to a Greek Island once in a while, First Kiss, Fluff and Smut, Inspired by Mamma Mia! (Movies), M/M, Mamma Mia! References, Meet-Cute, No actual singing, Non Romantic Love Triangle, Stevie and Jake chapters are minimal, Weddings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:47:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>44,980</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26141563</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/agoodpersonrose/pseuds/agoodpersonrose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Dear Diary, what a night!</em>
</p><p>Or, the Mamma Mia! themed AU that nobody wanted but everyone needs.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jake &amp; David Rose, Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Stevie Budd &amp; David Rose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>97</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>78</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. In a Rich Man's World</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>All the things I could do, if I had a little money.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>It's a rich man's world.</em>
</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This fic is completed! I’ll be posting chapters every Thursday and Sunday until it’s finished. </p><p>I would highly recommend listening to the Mamma Mia soundtrack while reading this. There are a couple of songs placed throughout that I would advise listening to if you can just for the general vibes, but nobody that shouldn’t be singing will be singing I promise. Honestly the real aim of this fic is to make sure at least one person gets an ABBA song stuck in their head for the rest of the day. </p><p>Lastly, as always I have to say the BIGGEST thank you to fairmanor for being beta and therapist and general emotional support for the whole of this fic while I was freaking out about it. I should definitely start paying her, as well as the rest of RA discord who have been supportive in general for the whole time I've been writing</p><p>Hope you enjoy!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> Dear Diary,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It finally happened, they finally told me the truth. All these years I thought I was finally making a name for myself with my galleries. Finally being able to express myself free of the expectations that life has for me. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It turns out my parents have not only been funding my galleries, they have also been buying my patrons!!  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I can’t just sit around and let this happen. I refuse to be a pawn in my parents’ game. So, I’m leaving. I’ve taken the money I earned from working at the Blouse Barn during my rebellious phase the summer after High School (the only money I know for sure I earned for myself) and I’m running away.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I’m heading to Paris first, and then further.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I read somewhere that on the far edge of Greece there is an island - Kalokairi. People believed that if you sailed on from there, you’d fall off the edge of the earth.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> That’s the place for me. I leave tomorrow. I’m going to make some real memories, ones that aren’t controlled by my parents bank account or the family name. Something just for me. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The airport is filled with the sounds of the chatter of everyday life. The echoes are hollow against the long windowed walls, and David lets himself get lost in the sensation of being truly invisible. A woman pushes past him to run towards the arrival gates, kneeling on the floor with a sob as two children jump into her arms. He watches the display with a soft, detached feeling, and looks away as he passes. </p><p>A mish-mash of colours and noise greets him as he reaches the peak of the escalator, tipping him off to head through security. His two large metal suitcases are stuffed to the brim with all the clothes he could possibly fit for his travels. Not knowing what awaits him had led to him packing almost his entire wardrobe in a fit of desperation. </p><p>He is unburdened of his bags at check in and watches as they drift down the conveyor belt through a small rubber covered door. He sends a quick prayer off to the universe for their safety and silently heads through security, wrinkling his nose as he carefully unlaces his chunky Rick Owens shoes and places them in the grey tray. </p><p>The general population apparently shows much less care for their belongings than he does, and by the time he has finished placing them neatly in rows, a disgruntled queue has built up behind him. He ignores the waves of annoyance coming from over his shoulder and tip-toes through the scanner before going to swiftly reclaim his items and head straight for the boarding gate. </p><p>Having never flown economy before, David finds the whole experience frankly harrowing, but soon enough he’s tripping down the steps of the plane onto the concrete of the Charles de Gaulle airport. The sun is setting as he pulls his black cardigan tighter around himself and collects his suitcases, clumsily rolling them into a taxi waiting outside the doors, and giving the address of the cheap hotel he will be staying at in the centre of the city.</p><p>On the journey, he looks out the window to watch the old buildings of Paris rushing past. The gothic style of the buildings in great contrast to the modern glass of New York. He thinks about what it would look like to draw these buildings; the crumbling concrete and creative ways greenery has managed to poke its way through the crevices of the street. He pushes away the ridiculous notion before it can take root in his mind.</p><p>When they pull up to the hotel, David spends a moment hesitating and seriously considering calling the whole trip off. The memory of his parent’s basic mistrust spurs him on however and he clambers out, standing on the pavement and looking up at the weak structure. </p><p>The three stone steps leading up to the red, chipped door are worn down to a smooth dip in the middle. When he reaches the brass door knob it’s far heavier than he had expected, and he has to use his shoulder to shove his way into the shadowed, dusty front room. The door creaks as he pushes it, creating the atmosphere of a horror scene on the walk in.</p><p>After considerable clattering, and breathy groans from David, he reaches the front desk and jumps when he finds a hunched, bored looking girl sat with her head in her hand, watching him with disinterest written on her face. </p><p>“Um, hello?” He starts, trying to ding the bell which makes no noise. She glances down at his hand as he does it and frowns, looking him up and down with suspicion. “Je voudrais- um, <em> book in. </em>Please.”</p><p>The woman snorts and rolls her eyes, tapping away at the decrepit old computer in front of her which looks more suited to a trash heap than a desk. She pushes herself back on her rolling chair to reach behind her for a key off the hook and chucking it across the desk at him. </p><p>“Room seven.Top floor.”</p><p>David looks to his right at the worn down wooden stairs in the corner and looks back at her with furrowed brows. </p><p>“Is there an elevator?” he asks, not even trying to disguise his obvious disgust with his surroundings.</p><p>“There is, but it’s currently stuck somewhere between the second and third floor. So, even if it did come when you called it, I wouldn’t trust it.”</p><p>The girl seems to find herself amusing, but David just plasters on a fake grin and hesitates, hoping she’ll give him some other option. When she seems happy enough to sit in silence staring at him, David is forced to act.</p><p>“Um, okay, that’s fine,” he says, looking around himself as if in search of something. “I assume there is a bellboy of some kind? Someone to carry my very valuable luggage to my room, or something?”</p><p>The woman snorts again and shakes her head. “Unfortunately no, your very valuable luggage will have to stay down here if you’re not strong enough to carry it up yourself. Either that or I could change your booking to the basement room. It has got damp and was declared by the health department as ‘unsuitable for human breathing’ but I’m sure we could make an exception.”</p><p>She blinks innocently at the end of the sentence, and David has to bite back a smile lest he reveals to her that he’s amused. This woman has no qualms about his reputation, and he can’t help but be lightly charmed by her even if her customer service could do with considerable work. </p><p>“Well,” he says, looking back at the metal cases with a frustrated grimace. “I guess I will take my luggage up to my room, by myself.”</p><p>She nods and turns back to flicking through her magazine. He waits a moment more but she says nothing, and he turns to his cases with a determined look. With his cabin bag thrown over his shoulder, he grabs both cases by the top handle, tucking the long metal rods under each arm for stability, and starts the difficult journey up the stairs, rocking dangerously as he does so. </p><p>He manages to make it up the stairs slowly but steadily, pausing to pant at every stairwell, and slips his grimy key into the rusted lock. The room is small; with a slanted roof blocking him from standing on one half, and a large framed window with a metal hook to allow him to push it open, which he immediately does so in response to the dusty smell that greets him. </p><p>He kicks open the door to the small ensuite and pokes a head inside. The facilities are clearly old but relatively clean, and he tries not to think of the age of the plumbing as he carefully rolls his cases to the corner. </p><p>He sits on the bed; a double. It’s pushed into the corner of the room against two walls, with a pink sheet covering it. He bounces slightly and is unsurprised to hear the squeak of rusting springs inside the mattress. </p><p>Shaking himself of his disdain, David grabs a towel from the foot of the bed and prepares to take a shower, desperate to wash the stench of the other economy passengers from his skin. The fabric of the towel is scratchy and he rolls his eyes, snatching up his key and storming moodily down the stairs back to the front desk. </p><p>“I assume everything is satisfactory for you?” The woman at the desk asks as he approaches. </p><p>“Well, I think prisoners have been provided better accommodation than this, but yes. I suppose it is satisfactory for the week I will be staying here,” he bristles. “I would like some new towels however, the ones in my room might actually grate off my skin if I use them.”</p><p>“Is your skin cheese textured?”</p><p>David gapes at her. “No. I have a very detailed skin regime that keeps my skin soft and supple-- why?”</p><p>“Then I’m sure you’ll be fine,” she turns back to her magazine.</p><p>David is shocked to silence for another minute as he tries to come up with a response. “Can I ask a question?” He asks, but doesn’t wait for a response. “I think you’re rude.”</p><p>“Is that a question?”</p><p>“What’s your name?”</p><p>“I don’t usually go around giving out my name to random men, but if you must know, I’m Stevie.”</p><p>“Is that a French name?” David asks, “It’s just, where I come from, the name Steve is generally reserved for men, and you don’t look much like a man to me. No offense.”</p><p>Stevie looks him up and down with a calculating stare again, before rolling her eyes. “If you must know, I was actually raised in Canada.”</p><p>“How did you end up here, then?”</p><p>“I inherited the hotel from my Aunt. If I give you a fresh set of towels can this conversation end?” She seems like she’s trying to look offended, but it’s the politest she’s been since David arrives. He counts it as a win. </p><p>“Perhaps. Are you going to give me the towels?”</p><p>Stevie sighs as if he’s asked her to do something extremely tiresome, and pushes herself up from her chair by the desk. She heads around to a room in the back and returns with a fresh set of towels, only a small improvement from the ones in David’s room but he’ll take what he can get.</p><p>“Will these do?” She asks, handing them to him with a look that says he won’t be getting any better.</p><p>“I suppose so,” David replies, turning to leave. He has one foot on the bottom step when he turns around and looks back at her. “Merci beaucoup.” </p><p>“Au revoir.”</p><p>He leaves with a small smile gracing his lips, although he would never admit that to anyone. </p><p>In the end, the bed is a suitable surface to rest on after a long, wearisome day of travelling. David falls asleep almost as soon as he collapses onto it, and doesn’t wake until early afternoon the next day, the sun coming through the slanted window making it clear how long he must have overslept. </p><p>David dresses in his best approximation of summer city clothing: His black jeans with slits in the knees which hug tightly to his thighs, and a black polo shirt with white stars around the collar. By the time he is ready to face the day, it’s almost 3pm, and his stomach is complaining loudly.</p><p>He grabs his keys and heads out of the room, only to bump straight into Stevie at the top of the stairs. For some likely sad reason, she’s wearing the same plaid shirt as the night before only in a different colour, and her hair still falls flatly across her shoulders. David catches her by the shoulders before he can push her down the stairs, and she clings to him for a moment before regaining his balance. </p><p>“Excuse-moi,” David says in his best approximation of a French accident. Stevie looks confused for a moment, before rolling her eyes and smirking at him.</p><p>“You really should watch where you’re going, you know,” she grumbles. “You stand out pretty bad here, you’d have no chance evading capture if you were to accidentally push me down the stairs.”</p><p>“I’ll keep that in mind.”</p><p>She rolls her eyes again and avoids looking at him, scuffing her converse on the moth eaten carpet. Despite the ugly clothes and moody vibe she gives off, she really is very attractive. She seems so unaware of her natural beauty, but the small smile on her lips means she’s noticed David looking. He frowns at her, calculating, before talking again.</p><p>“How can I make it up to you?” He asks after a moment. </p><p>She looks confused, “what do you mean?”</p><p>“For almost killing you-- How can I make it up to you?” David asks again. “I could take you to dinner, maybe?”</p><p>“It’s a little early for dinner, don’t you think? And believe it or not I’m actually at work right now.”</p><p>“What time do you finish?”</p><p>“Six.” </p><p>“Dinner at six then? My treat.”</p><p>She’s full on smiling now, looking at the ground. Her bashful attitude is the complete contrast to her sullen interactions from the night before. “Alright,” she mumbles, finally looking back up at him with an even stare. “You can take me to dinner.”</p><p>David grins in success and nods, sucking in his lips in a little celebratory move. </p><p>“But it had better be somewhere nice. I don’t just let just any mysterious weirdo take me out, so you’d better make it worth my while.”</p><p>“I can work with that.”</p><p>Stevie nods one final time, shouldering past him and heading into the room across from his own. “You can pick me up at six, then.”</p><p>“Six it is.”</p><p>David skips down the steps with a small smile on his face and out onto the cobbled street. Around him, the rest of the world moves in a messy dance of pedestrians and cyclists, lovers and friends, strangers and family. He dodges his way through the crowd to the pavement across the way and heads towards the center with a small skip in his step. </p><p>Anonymity suits him perfectly. </p><p>An afternoon of sightseeing and museum trips passes quickly, and soon enough he’s back at the motel, lingering at the brick wall outside and trying not to look suspicious. The door creaks open behind him and Stevie steps out, in the same outfit she had been wearing earlier. She smiles slightly as if surprised to see him, and they fall into step, heading back down the road David had scoped out earlier as the perfect date spot. </p><p>“Where are you taking me, then?”</p><p>“Well, unfortunately I’m not an expert on Parisien dining, considering this is my first visit.” David says, turning to look at her with a small grin. “But, I am known as having exemplary taste, and an impressive ability to find restaurant reviews online. I have found us the perfect little hidden gem.”</p><p>“What’s it called?”</p><p>“Le Waterloo.” David says with a smile which only grows at Stevie’s disgruntled expression. </p><p>“Really?”</p><p>“I’m not kidding, apparently it’s a hidden gem of Paris. It is also the only place that I can currently afford on my tight budget. But apparently it has ‘surprisingly tasty food’. Trust me on this.”</p><p>“Okay,” Stevie says. She reaches over hesitantly and brushes their hands together where they are swinging between them. David takes the hint and grabs her hand, swinging them more as they walk down the narrow street, raising them over street bollards and tugging her across the street just after a car passes. </p><p>The restaurant they arrive at is small and nondescript from the outside. David leads Stevie inside, hopeful that the interior will prove superior, and is pleased to discover that the TripAdvisor comments were not incorrect. The inside has a pleasing dark wood and red aesthetic, giving a romantic atmosphere. David’s shoes squeak against the marble, mosaic patterned floor as they are seated at a white cloth covered table in the middle of the hall-like dining area, and Stevie kicks his ankle to get his attention, smiling at him in response to the gorgeous room. </p><p>“I told you to trust me, didn’t I?” David asks, unable to keep the smug tone from his voice. </p><p>“I suppose you were right.”</p><p>“Mm, can I maybe get that in writing?” He asks, causing Stevie to kick his ankle with a little more vigour in response. </p><p>“The smug look doesn’t suit you.”</p><p>“You’re still here though, aren’t you?”</p><p>“I got offered a free dinner, I’m not financially well off enough to turn that down.”</p><p>Stevie matches David punch for punch in a way he has never experienced. Her sharp sense of humour is so different to the soft, meaningless flirting he had with models and the elite of New York and Los Angeles. Every time he matches her, he is rewarded with a surprised, gentle smile in return. Almost like she is as surprised as he is to find someone so well matched in such a short amount of time. </p><p>“Monsieur, Mademoiselle, may I take your order?” </p><p>David is slightly startled by the arrival of their server, a grey haired gentleman in a black suit. He stands a respectable distance away, black notebook flipped and prepared to take notes. </p><p>“What do you prepare? Red wine or white wine?” Stevie asks, looking determinedly down at the menu. </p><p>It takes David a moment to realise the reason for the loaded tone of the question as Stevie’s cheeks flush slightly. He looks at her evenly and smirks. </p><p>“I partake in both red and white wine. I am open to your preference,” he says gently, not missing the pleased look he gets in response.</p><p>“I think we’ll take a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc for tonight,” Stevie directs at their waiter. “Does the white wine sound acceptable to you?”</p><p>“Mm, very much so.”</p><p>They share a heated glance as the waiter disappears with promises of returning for their food order. On tasting, the wine is light and dry, leaving a sweet taste on David’s tongue as he swallows his sip. He watches as Stevie does the same, sharing a smile before they both accept the wine and leave room for the sommelier to pour them each a healthy serving, placing the bottle between them on the table and returning to his previous position; notebook out and waiting. </p><p>“Your food order?”</p><p>“I will have the Pasta al Cartoccio, merci.” Stevie closes her menu and hands it to the gentleman with a polite smile. </p><p>He takes it and nods. “An excellent choice, mademoiselle. And for you, sir?”</p><p>“The Mushroom Fettuccine, please.”</p><p>“Of course. It will be right with you.”</p><p>The waiter leaves swiftly, and Stevie swills her wine around her glass, looking across the table at David. “So,” she starts, “I’m curious. What brought you to Paris? If you’re so wealthy then how did you end up in my hotel of all places?”</p><p>David pauses, taking a long sip of his drink and trying to come up with a suitable explanation before meeting her eye. </p><p>“I’m running away, I guess. I discovered that my life was a lie, and instead of fixing it, I ran.”</p><p>“What did you discover?”</p><p>“I owned galleries; art installations in New York.”</p><p>“You owned lots of paintings?” Stevie asks with a teasing smirk.</p><p>David smiles and shakes his head. “I owned a presentation space for artists to come and display their work. I would sell the art and take a cut of the profit.”</p><p>“Ah, right. Of course. You sold other people’s paintings.”</p><p>David gives her a glare but there is no real heat to it. “I was planning on going further in my career, perhaps extending to start selling my own art, but when I raised the question with my parents they told me they’d funded my galleries. I had thanked them for the start up money, of course, but I thought I’d paid them back in full.”</p><p>Stevie frowns, clearly focused on following the conversation. </p><p>“It turns out not only had they funded it, they had also bought all my patrons. Instead of setting up a new gallery, proving them wrong, continuing with my dream. I ran away.”</p><p>“Well, aren’t you going back? I thought you were only in Paris for a week?” Stevie asks. There’s no judgement in her expression, only honest curiosity. </p><p>“No, I’m only in Paris as a pitstop.”</p><p>Their food arrives, offering a brief interlude to their discussion which David takes with glee, twirling golden strands of pasta around his fork and digging in without hesitation.</p><p>“Have you heard of Kalokairi?”</p><p>Stevie shakes her head, her mouth stuffed with pasta preventing her from responding verbally. </p><p>“It’s this island in Greece. There are a lot of myths about it; in the past, people believed that it was the end of the earth, and that if you went any further you would fall off the edge.”</p><p>“--and you want to go to the end of the earth?”</p><p>David smiles a little ruefully. “Where better to hide from your past?”</p><p>Stevie is silent for a moment, and David shuffles uncomfortably under the weight of her judgement. </p><p>“You think it’s ridiculous, don’t you?”</p><p>“No, no I-- I think it’s brave.”</p><p>David raises an eyebrow in silent disbelief as she shovels another forkful of food into her mouth, chewing and swallowing before continuing her line of thought. </p><p>“I wish I was that brave, to go after what I want. To put myself first.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Yes, David.”</p><p>He smiles cheekily at her, nudging her foot a little gently. “You could do it too, you know. You could go anywhere, do anything. Go after what you want.”</p><p>“I’m starting to realise that.”</p><p>They finish their meal, the conversation staying on lighter topics for the while. It’s a lovely evening of wine and carbs, and when they stumble out into the street, Stevie slips her hand into David’s arm as they trip over cobblestones and around sewer grates towards the hotel. </p><p>They hesitate at the large red door. David turns to Stevie, unsure of how to proceed, but before he can she’s raised herself up onto her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. </p><p>Her lips are soft against his, but insistent. It feels like the natural progression as they stand together in the dark street after a lovely evening, to do it again. He hums as they do so, and pulls away. David blinks his eyes open, and Stevie does the same, her lips curved into a small grin as her face remains tilted up towards him.</p><p>She looks lovely in the low shine of the streetlights. The pavement reflects the light, and the cool air breathes around them as David smiles at her. </p><p>“Did you want to come in?” David asks, nodding upwards to indicate his room. </p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>David takes her hand and leads her up the steps. The red door swings shut behind them, closing with a decisive click. </p><p>The next morning, Stevie gets up and rushes off to work at the desk. When David heads out for another day of sightseeing, she smiles and waggles her fingers at him as he passes. </p><p>David wanders down the gardens of the Palace of Versailles, he finds a small iron bench off to the side. It’s delicately carved roses and figures drawing him to it. Carefully, he perches on the back, his feet on the seat, and roots around in his day bag for his sleek black diary. </p><p>It’s a beautiful day. The sun is shining across the garden square, and the bustle of people seems softer here, away from the harsh grey corners of the street. David watches some ducks settling into the pond on their way somewhere as he clicks his pen thoughtfully against his leg. </p><p>Finally, he turns to the task at hand and begins to write.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Dear Diary, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> What a night!  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Paris is the most beautiful city in the world. My hotel bed with its squeaking springs is a little corner of paradise. I feel like I can truly be me here, without the weight of expectation on my shoulders.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And I think I met someone.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Stevie is so different from everyone I’ve ever known before. I said I’d take her out to dinner last night, she’s so genuine and funny. One thing led to another and…  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I know I’m only here for a week, and she does too, so there is no opportunity to get attached. But I feel like I’ve met one of my own here, someone made of the same stuff I am. Whatever happens I know that I’ve found someone who is truly matched to me.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>David is startled and slides onto the seat of the bench as someone jumps behind him. He turns to find Stevie looking at him with an amused expression before she vaults over the back of the seat and sits next to him. </p><p>“Made you jump,” she says, peering over his shoulder and trying to get a peek inside the book. “What are you writing?”</p><p>“None of your business. You know you really shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”</p><p>“Oh really, why? Have you got a gentle disposition? Did I give you a fright?”</p><p>“No, I--” David stammers and rolls his eyes as Stevie gently nudges him with her elbow, effectively lightening the mood with her touch. “What do you want?” </p><p>“I have the rest of the day off. I thought we could go to the Louvre and make fun of the paintings. You could tell me which one’s you wouldn’t be able to sell.”</p><p>“Turns out I’d have no issue selling any painting to my parents,” he grumbles. Stevie winces and he shakes his head dismissively. “I’m sorry, I’m kidding. That sounds like a good idea.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Yeah, I’d like that.”</p><p>They head straight there, stepping through the grand main entrance and eagerly heading down the sign posted route.</p><p>David absorbs every piece like a starved man. He is not distracted by the internal pricing calculator in his head, flashing dollar signs of potential. Instead, he drifts through, glancing at those that fail to capture his interest, and drawing his own conclusions. Stevie switches between humorous quips, and silent reflection. She seems to gain as much from the paintings as David does. </p><p>Together they stroll down corridors of Renaissance art; each stroke an act of defiance, a representation of battle, of loss, of guilt.</p><p>He and Stevie link arms as if they’ve been doing it forever and wander around the museum. Stevie stands in front of the Mona Lisa and pulls off a very impressive impression, only to be forcibly moved along by the museum staff, laughing all the way. </p><p>That evening, they head back to the motel together. David kisses Stevie again, but she doesn’t stay the night. She wanders down the street with a smile over her shoulder and a little wave. </p><p>Soon enough, David’s time in Paris comes to an end. The morning is a morose one, but a necessary break. David clatters clumsily back down the stairs of the hotel with his large suitcases in tow. Stevie watches from her perch at the desk, a sad smile on her face as she leads him out the front door and locks it behind them. </p><p>“What are you doing?” David asks as she joins him on the street, waving for a taxi and helping him pile them into the trunk. </p><p>“I’m dropping you off at the port.”</p><p>“You don’t have to do that.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>David takes Stevie’s hand in the back seat as they make the journey to the water’s edge. From here, the boat will take him through the canals of France, to Conde-Sur-Marne, where he will change again for a boat directly to Greece, and then another to Kalokairi. </p><p>They arrive at the port, and David hesitates. He grips Stevie’s hand tighter as they climb out the back seat and stand at the side of the road. </p><p>“I’ve had a really wonderful time here.” David says softly. “I like to think I might actually have made a friend here, despite the strange circumstances.”</p><p>Stevie makes a sound suspiciously like a sniff, and nods. Her head is dipped, her hair like a closed curtain across her face, which David gently pushes to the side. </p><p>“I’ll miss you.”</p><p>“Yeah, well. I won’t miss fetching clean towels for you,” she hesitates for a moment, before holding out a hand. “Give me your dumb book.”</p><p>“What?” David asks, even as he complies, handing over his black notebook without thinking twice. Stevie opens it to the back, where she writes her name, address, and phone number on the back cover before closing the book again and handing it back. </p><p>“Don’t be a stranger, David Rose.”</p><p>David smiles and shakes his head even as he tucks the book away. “I should be going,” he says, turning around to look at the empty port. “They’ll be leaving soon.”</p><p>“Yeah, you should.” </p><p>Stevie grabs David in a fierce hug which he returns with desperation. They cling to each other for a moment longer before pulling away, both blinking away tears even as David begins to pull at the handles of his suitcases. </p><p>“Good luck, David. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”</p><p>“You too.” He replies, pausing once more to watch her safely step back into the taxi, and drive away. </p><p>He turns back to face the canal. Next stop, Kalokairi, and whatever that holds.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The fic title is (obviously) from The Winner Takes it All, chapter title from Gimme Gimme Gimme, and of course there is a reference to Waterloo in there too!</p><p>Please leave a comment if you get a chance to let me know what you thought &lt;3</p><p>Hope you enjoyed ! 🏝</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. One Look and You're Hypnotised</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>Look into his angel eyes</em>
  <br/>
  <em>One look and your hypnotised</em>
  <br/>
  <em>He'll take your heart and you must pay the price</em>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The journey to Greece is long and arduous. Travelling by boat was the cheapest method, but also the longest. It takes almost two days on the overnight ferry to arrive at the port Patras. David queues to get off, his bags close at hand, and glares at those passengers that pass too close to his precious luggage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is a two hour wait before the ferry arrives for Kalokairi, and if David had any doubt about what he would do in that gap his stomach makes the decision for him, growling loudly just as his feet hit the pier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighs, frustratedly tugging at his suitcases which get stuck at every stone and curb on the journey across the street to Kokos Pitta, a small rustic style restaurant with chipped wooden chairs and tables behind the wide open window of the front.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tucks his bags under the table and orders a large Greek salad and wrap with a side of Patatas Bravas and idly swirls his straw in his glass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The food arrives swiftly, and he thanks the waitress as she places the feast in front of him. Just as he has stabbed a clump of potatoes onto his fork, he looks up to see an attractive young man strolling into the restaurant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man is dressed in a tight grey henley, its neckline low enough to reveal his bronze, toned shoulders and muscles. His cargo shorts are tight around the waist and somewhat shorter than the typical pair, but somehow his brazen comfort in his own skin allows him to pull the look off. He looks around at the quiet tables, offering a quick greeting to the waiting staff who clearly know of him, and finally his gaze lands on David. Smiling, he heads over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, did you just come from the port?” the man asks, standing in front of the table. Somehow he looks even better closer up, David notes, as he chews furiously on his mouthful, one hand up to hide the unfortunate sight, and swallows. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, perhaps. Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hoped so, this fell out of your bag. I didn’t look in it but I figured you might want it back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He holds out the black leather journal between two fingers and waves it in front of David who flushes, and reaches out to take it from him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost that.” David admits, opting to place it carefully into his metal suitcase for safekeeping. “I’m David, by the way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jake.” The man replies, holding out a hand for David to shake. His grip is loose and casual, and his hand is large, almost fully encasing David’s. “Are you waiting for someone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jake gestures at the chair across from David. “Are you waiting for someone to eat with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” David laughs self-deprecatingly and shakes his head. “Um, no, believe it or not all this is for me. I thought I was shame eating in private.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s shame eating?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t need to go into all that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jake smirks and shrugs, pulling the chair around and straddling it so his arms lay casually over the back. He reaches forward and carefully pulls the fork from David’s grip, their fingers brushing in a tantalising pressure as he does so, and stabs a potato, biting into it and then holding out the rest for David to eat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He does so, leaning forward and carefully dragging his teeth along the prong of the fork, maintaining eye contact with Jake all the while. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a lot of luggage you’ve got there.” Jake says, as he looks back down at the food. “Going somewhere nice?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m waiting for the ferry to Kalokairi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Jake looks surprised, which annoys David a little, but he pushes the feeling down. “What are you doing there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have family on the island. I grew up there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But, you don’t live there now?” David confirms, furrowing his brows. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I don’t really live anywhere.” Jake says, smiling brightly. “Or rather, I live everywhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A traveller?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something like that. I don’t like to be tied down. The world is wide; what’s to stop me from getting out there and making some memories?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His gaze slips to David’s lips as he talks. David rolls his eyes, reaching back to take the fork back from Jake and feeding himself again. “You’re very forward, did you know that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have to be forward when there’s a time limit like ours.” Jake counters. “When does your boat get in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“An hour and a half.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jake raises his eyebrow as if to prove his point, but David just laughs lightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is your business in Kalokairi, David?” Jake asks, reaching out to take David’s glass which is immediately snatched back off him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard the myths, that it was once believed that if you went any further than the island that you would fall off the end of the earth. I wanted to see it for myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jake frowns, “And what business do you have with the edge of the earth?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll call it a fact finding mission.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, will we now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David just wrinkles his nose and pretends to not be charmed by Jake’s casual attitude. “What exactly is your game here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jake shrugs, “You intrigue me. It’s not every day that someone with such high taste arrives at this dock, heading to Kalokairi of all places. You stand out, David.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly. The one time I don’t want to stand out and apparently that’s what I’m doing. You’re telling me you don’t do this often?” David teases, unable to prevent himself from smirking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do what? Talk to attractive men I just happen to meet on the dock?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, so you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>kind of guy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jake barks out a laugh, “What, charming? Honest? Easy on the eyes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, there are two types of heartbreaker in this world,” David says, leaning over the table conspiratorially. “First, is the average, careless one. They meet someone in a club and spend the night, they know who they are and everyone else does too. The other, and the far more dangerous one--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope you’re talking about me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t get too flattered. I bet you <em>genuinely</em> fall in love with someone every evening. Then, when morning breaks, you tell them it’s not them, it’s you, and they are just too much for your fragile heart to handle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think you’ll be too much for me to handle?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think we’ll get the chance to find out,” David says curtly, turning back to his meal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jake actually appears to enjoy David’s attitude and just leans his chin in his hand and smiles across the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” he says finally, growing exasperated by the constant attention, but still unable to keep the dumb smile off his face. It seems that getting out of the public eye and his parents’ shadow would perhaps lead to a whole host of new experiences.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing. Just enjoying the company.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you can continue to enjoy the company, I guess. But I will be finishing my potatoes and going to catch a boat to the edge of the earth in an hour.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The edge of the earth doesn’t deserve you. But, I’ll leave you to your potatoes,” Jake says, standing up. He doesn’t seem phased by the dismissal, and stands from the table with one final wink. “Nice meeting you, David.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You too, Jake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even despite the long layover, somehow David still manages to get caught up and finds himself rushing towards the ferry port.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His massive shining metal suitcases clank and clatter along the port edge as he runs to the passport office. He throws his passport at the man waiting, offering a hazy grin, and already looking away to see if the boat has started to move yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“David Rose. Your passport photo really doesn’t do you justice.” The man says. David frowns as he looks over; he’s wearing a bright pink polo shirt, his moustache neatly trimmed. He has a small metal badge attached to his shirt with </span>
  <em>
    <span>My Name Is… Ray </span>
  </em>
  <span>written in a thick white font.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, okay. Well, nobody looks good on their passport, really, do they?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is a popular miscalculation. I actually own my own photography business, and we specialise in photographs, and portraits, and things like that. I actually have a box of sample images somewhere in here--” he says leaning down and rooting around under his desk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I really don’t have time for this. The boat is leaving now and I really need to be on it, so if we could just rush this along a bit?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David’s pleas seem to do little to rush the man along. He finally manages to wrangle himself through customs, grabs his passport and his various bags, and sets to running down the little stone peer towards where the ferry is already being kicked off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait! I’m here, don’t leave without me!” he yells, waving his hands around as the passengers just watch on with amusement. “Bastards,” he mutters, coming to a stop and trying extremely hard not to throw an emotional fit in such a public space. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He jumps as a voice turns up behind him, and looks to see Jake with a handful of his clothes from where one of his cases had apparently popped open in his rush. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We meet again, David. Seems your belongings keep ending up in my hands. I’d hasten to bet these look great on you,” he says, holding up an extremely short pair of black swimming trunks as if imagining David in them in the moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Again, it’s a shame you’ll never find out,” David replies, grabbing his clothes and stuffing them back in the case. “When’s the next ferry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Two days, if the weather is right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jake shrugs and turns back towards the-- boat?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, so. I guess I will just go and find somewhere to stay for the next few nights,” David says pointedly, eyeing the boat with interest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d better hurry,” Jake says, smirking, “the hotels get pretty crowded, you’ll be lucky to find somewhere this late in the game.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or, you know what else I could do. I could make the acquaintance of a very nice, polite man, who happens to have a boat!” David says, waving his hands around as if surprised by Jake’s presence, who plays along and leans in, looking interested. “--and he’s such a great guy, that he offers to take me across to the island that I am currently trying to get to!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That does sound like a really great guy. Good luck finding him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, I’m sorry! Please will you take me to the island!” David begs, screwing his eyes up and putting his hands together in a little begging motion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hop on board, David.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jake steps back and reaches up to help David lower his cases onto the decking. His muscles flex with the effort and David enjoys the view before making his own, inelegant descent onto the boat, Jake’s arms coming up to support him as he does so. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, why do you have a boat?” David asks as he gets settled, sitting down and watching Jake rush around. He makes controlling a vessel seem very sexy, and David is content to just lie back and enjoy the view.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you didn’t I? I’m an adventurer. The open seas, and clear blue skies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t wish you could shore up somewhere, settle in? Make a home?” David asks, curiously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that what you’re doing?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-- No. But that’s different.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I’m running away from something specific. You seem to be running away from life in general,” David grumbles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is this very specific thing that you’re running away from?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David laughs, lightly and happily. “You’ll have to try harder than that to unlock my tragic backstory.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well it’s lucky we have a whole day till we get to Kalokairi then,” Jake says, flashing his winning smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And the name of your boat-- Chiquitita, what is that supposed to mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a term of endearment, little one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Little--?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It literally means little one,” Jake says with a laugh at David’s offended tone. “Though I’m sure I could start calling you that too if that’s what you’re into?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David just shakes his head with a laugh and lies back to get in a better position to look up at the sky. The white clouds are fluffy and look delectable, they float through the sky above them while the boat bobs underneath them, and for a moment David lets the gentle rocking lull him into a peaceful state. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“David?” Jake’s voice rings through his silence. “Do you mind giving me a hand over here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks up, pulling his white sunglasses from his face to see Jake holding some sort of pulley out towards him. David suppresses rolling his eyes, he has got a free ride after all, and stands up, approaching him cautiously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want me to do with it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just hold it steady for a while. I need to go and tighten the knots.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm,” David says, nodding appreciatively. “Is that a line or do you really need to go and tie your laces?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jake looks down at his boat shoes and then back up, a bemused expression on his face. “I see we’re warming up to the idea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I assume there is only one bed on board, and I am not made for sleeping anywhere other than on a mattress,” David counters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There is actually a second bed, but I can put something on it if you need the excuse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jake steps closer, his hands still holding David’s over the rope. He smells musky and sweaty, likely from the heavy labour, and David tilts his head up as he steps nearer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t dare to give you more work to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I appreciate that, I already have my work cut out with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David pulls an offended face but he’s smiling as Jake towers just slightly over him. “You know, you seem to be--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He is cut off as Jake swoops in and kisses him. He kisses fiercely, without restraint, his tongue delving into David’s mouth without hesitation as he bites at the corner of his lips hungrily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I really do need to go and tighten the knots,” he says as he pulls back. “Keep your grip on this. Don’t let it go until I get back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David watches him rush down the boat with a smile on his face. This could be fun. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All in all, the boat journey goes smoothly. David isn’t well adept at trips but Jake’s comfortable bed and generous spirit makes for a comfortable voyage, and soon enough they are docking at a small wooden peer on the edge of an island. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David gasps as he looks up at the green mountains in his wake. The air is filled with the sounds of the water lapping the peer, the faint cawing of seagulls, and the rippling of the wind in nearby trees. It looks like paradise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, you left this place?” David asks, turning to Jake who is diligently carrying his suitcases and depositing them on the wooden floor. “Like, you <em>chose</em> to leave?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish I could see it with fresh eyes, but Kalokairi is small. It’s easy to feel trapped here when you’ve never lived anywhere else.” He looks sadly at the view, the complete contrast of David’s overjoyed excitement. “Are you going to be okay here all by yourself?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. This is where I was meant to be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need to find somewhere to stay sooner rather than later. A storm is due tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The forecast must be wrong. Look at those skies!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jake shrugs and finally heaves the last silver case off the boat. “I have a relative on the island, her name’s Ronnie. You should go and talk to her. She’s pretty cold with strangers but if she likes you enough she’ll help you get set up with accommodation until you decide what you want to do next.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s very kind of you, thank you. Are you sure you don’t want to stay a while?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got a whole world to see, David. I’ve enjoyed our time together though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He clambers off the boat and kisses David on the lips. David supposes he should probably feel some sort of sadness that Jake isn’t entranced enough to want to stay a while longer, but instead he feels relieved to get to experience the island by himself. He kisses back, pulling away with a smile lingering on his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have my contact if you ever need anything!” Jake shouts as he sets off on the boat, wherever else he will be going. “Good luck, David!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Contact-- What does that even mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead of trying to untangle Jake’s confusing statement, David turns back to look at the island and sighs with contentment before looking back down at the bags. He really should have asked Jake to carry them up the dirt track for him, but it’s too late now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He collects all his items together and starts up the sandy road, not passing anyone on his way. He reaches a fork and follows the sign for the town, clumsily tripping over his own luggage as he pulls it along behind him, until finally, a stone path emerges leading to a small square. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The town in Kalokairi is small; four buildings and a small market in a cobbled square. He spots a clothes store, an empty lot, and a cafe, which he prioritises, elbowing through the ancient windowed door into the cool, deserted room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He makes his way over to the bar, where a young woman is cleaning glasses, an apron tied around her waist as she does so. Her name badge reads </span>
  <em>
    <span>Twyla</span>
  </em>
  <span> and she appears friendly, so David decides she is his best bet at finding Ronnie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, hi. Are you a tourist?” She asks. “I thought the last ferry came in last night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um yes, kind of, actually, I was looking for Ronnie? Do you know where I can find her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ronnie owns the woodshop just across the street. Do you want me to look after your luggage while you talk to her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David looks her up and down, calculating her trustworthiness, before nodding slowly. “That’s really kind of you, thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lets him tuck his bags behind the bar, and exits the cafe, heading across the street to the open wooden door, at the front of a large white building. Like everything on this island, it’s worn down and the paint is chipping, and when he wanders in there is the faint smell of sea salt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you Ronnie?” He asks, hesitating in the doorway and catching eyes with a dour looking woman in the centre of the room. She is filing down some sort of chair on a workbench, and looks up at him with a frown as he enters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps, and who are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m David. Jake told me to come and look for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She seems to relax slightly at this, looking slightly less suspicious at his presence. “And I suppose he told you I could offer you a place to stay after he graciously hosted you on his boat?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t know that was a pattern of his,” David says, though he isn’t as surprised as he perhaps should be. “But he did say that, yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ronnie sighs and rolls her eyes, wiping her incredibly dusty hands on her jeans as she walks towards him. She looks him over with a judgemental eye. “What are you doing on Kalokairi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m looking for a place to stay. Somewhere nobody knows me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She snorts. “You won’t find that here. Welcome to the place where everyone knows everyone,” she says, hesitating a second more before huffing out a sigh. “I have a property, up the hill. It used to be a hotel but unfortunately it’s fallen into disrepair. Some of the rooms are still liveable so I can let you stay there until you’ve worked out what to do. If you decide to stay, however, I expect that you will pay me back by contributing something worthwhile to the community here. That is how I do business. Do I have your agreement?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David can’t help but be a little intimidated by her brash attitude, but he nods warily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And if I decide not to stay here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No skin off my back, kid. You have a month to decide.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is very generous of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ronnie looks at him a moment longer and shrugs. “You seem like you could do with a leg up. Now, I assume you have a lot more bags than you currently have with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes a little less than an hour to get all of David’s belongings up to the old hotel. It’s a largely broken down building, with wood rot and broken doors and shutters that continuously creak and fall off even without being touched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ronnie barks out a laugh as she watches his dismayed reaction, and leads him up a set of blue stairs to a room at the top. It’s small, with little other than a small wooden bed, but Ronnie promises to deck it out with leftover furniture as well as some items that she will make for him at cost. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All his complaints fall away as he looks out the window. The view down the hill of the shoreline, and the sea, lapping against the sane makes all his worries seem like nothing at all. He turns to Ronnie, and thanks her genuinely, promising to keep her updated on his plans. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That evening finds him curled up in a wicker armchair, decked in his warmest, cream-coloured cable knit sweater, his black notebook open on his lap, listening to the pattering of the storm against his window. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dear Diary, </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What a night!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jake met me at the docks and took me over to the little island on his boat. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Even though I really do miss Stevie, she’s still possibly the only genuine friend I’ve ever had, Jake is ridiculous, and he is funny. One thing led to another and…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He dropped me off at the port of Kalokairi and even sent me in the direction of a woman called Ronnie who set me up in the old hotel at the top of the hill. It’s the most worn down building I have ever seen, and yet, something about this place makes me feel like I could truly be happy here. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He doesn’t seem like the type to settle down, and I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again, but I don't regret a moment of our time together. This trip is turning out to be the biggest adventure of my life and it’s only just beginning. I have an offer to stay on the island for good as long as I give something back to the community, whatever that means. Either way, it seems things are finally looking up. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>David looks up from his writing and takes a deep breath, lingering in the moment. He flips to the back page to scan his finger over Stevie’s name there, only to find an additional note hidden at the back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sneaky little--” David mutters, as he reads the note Jake had written.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>In case you ever want to contact me again ;)</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jake.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Do I know anything about boats? Absolutely not, but nor does David so I think I got away with it. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!! Let me know your thoughts in the comments, only one more <em>dot dot dot</em> to go!! 🏝</p><p>References in this chapter;<br/>Title: Why Did it Have to be Me?<br/>Name of the Boat - Chiquitita.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Lay All Your Love on Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>Don't go wasting your emotion</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Lay all your love on me</em>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>David wakes to the sound of the tide rushing in and out from past his open window. It seems the storm from last night has well and truly blown away, leaving the world instead in a blissful state of sunshine and blue skies.</p><p>When he finally drags himself out of the bedsheets, David dresses in a pair of black <a href="https://www.harveynichols.com/brand/bluemint/269327-oscar-black/p3176207/">swimming shorts</a> that reach high on the thigh, and a white graphic t-shirt with a vampire’s mouth plastered on the front. It’s a hot day, and while he is extremely fond of his expensive clothing line and flawless taste, even the worst of his clothing is incomparable to the standards he has seen on this island. Besides, he has no plans to meet anyone today, instead looking forward to a solitary day of exploring the island and experiencing life on the edge of the world. </p><p>The hotel is equally as drab in the early morning light as it had been before, but it has a rustic charm to it. David wanders down the creaking stairs and into the dirty cobblestone courtyard. There’s something about the place that holds potential, he muses, as he pokes and prods at the old cupboards and furniture.</p><p>Pushing all thoughts of the hotel aside for now, he heads down the dusty track back towards the beach. Through a break in the tree line, tripping over roots and sticks on his way, he comes out at what looks like a private beach. A small patch of sand and sea, surrounded from behind by the wooded area, and cut off in the corners by rocky wave breakers. </p><p>It feels secluded, private, and David only hesitates for a moment before pulling his shoes off and letting the hot sand prickle between his toes. </p><p>This is much better than a skin treatment in any spa he’s ever visited. </p><p>In general, barefeet in a public place is incorrect, but the little beach is out of sight of any living people, and David is trying against all might to re-write himself. He kicks the sand up as he makes his way towards the water, only wincing slightly as the cool waves lap over his ankles, the wet sand burying his feet just slightly.</p><p>Serenity is a good look on him, and he continues to wander the shore, jumping over the wave breakers to continue to the next area of beach. </p><p>So lost in his own head, he doesn’t even notice that he’s stepping into a hole until his ankle twists and he pitches forward and comes crashing to the ground with only his arms up to try and lessen the impact. </p><p>The sand catches his fall, but covers him and his outfit in grainy bits. The David from before would be screaming about his clothes, but in the moment he has nothing but silent shock as he looks down at himself in horror. </p><p>“Hey, are you okay?” Someone shouts, running towards him from the sea.<br/>
<br/>
David experiences it all in slow motion. He looks over to see a figure backed by the glare of the sun, running up with droplets of water flying from his bare shoulders and wet, curly hair. David lets himself be pulled up by the man, his cool, damp forearm used as a lifeline to pull him away from the gritty sand which he will likely be finding in unthinkable places for the next year.</p><p>“I’m so sorry, I saw you coming and I was going to shout you a warning but I got distracted and-- Well, it was too late. You’re not injured anywhere are you?” The man is asking, his flushed face likely from his nervous attitude as well as the sun, which David assumes will run wild with his pale complexion.</p><p>“Why is there a hole in the sand?” is all he can think to say, as he looks down at his feet.</p><p>The man blushes and stutters again, gesturing down at where David can now see a towel and bag sticking out of the shallow pit.</p><p>“I read somewhere that you should put your stuff in a bag and bury it when you go to the beach.”</p><p>David hums, unable to hide his amused expression, “So, I assume you don’t go to the beach often?”</p><p>The guy blushes harder, if that’s possible and shakes his head. He seems to go to put his hands in his pockets, only remembering then that he is wearing a pair of tight blue patterned <a href="https://www.ikrix.com/us/blue-flowers-print-swim-pants-fedeli-86770">swimming shorts</a> with nowhere to put his hands. He blushes as he brushes them down the front instead, nervously. </p><p>“Nope, I’m a country boy through and through.”</p><p>“Huh.”</p><p>David looks back down at the small hole, and then around for a spade. </p><p>“How did you even dig the hole? I don’t see a little shovel or anything.”</p><p>The man looks confused for a moment. “You couldn’t tell that it wasn’t dug with a spade? I just kicked a hole in the sand with my foot to keep the stuff cool, and stop people from stealing it.”</p><p>David looks around them at the deserted beach. “Lots of beach thieves where you’re from?”</p><p>“I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Patrick,” he says, ignoring David’s sarcastic question and instead sticking out his hand for David to shake. “I don’t suppose I could ask for your forgiveness for making you trip over on our first meeting.”</p><p>David can’t help but smile slightly at the implication of a second meeting. “David,” he says back. </p><p>“Nice to meet you David,” Patrick seems to take a moment to look him up and down as their hands remain clasped between them. “Could I perhaps buy you a drink? To apologise?”</p><p>“I guess I could let you buy me a drink, if it will make you feel better,” David says, tugging at his t-shirt to try and shake out the sand which has started to make his skin itch uncomfortably. </p><p>Patrick looks like a golden retriever with his big grin and brown eyes. David has half a mind to look around and see if he has a tail wagging, but just watches as he packs away his stuff into a beach bag, pulls a short sleeved white button-up out to cover his chest (disappointingly), and nods towards the path back up to the town square. </p><p>“Shall we?”</p><p>Patrick leads them up an unfamiliar path; the other side of the island to where David had docked the day before. The silence is comfortable, but David is grateful when Patrick breaks it.</p><p>“When did you get here?” he asks, their arms bumping as they swing beside them.</p><p>“Yesterday. I missed the ferry so I had to-- um, I got a ride from someone else,” David quickly shifts over his short chapter of time with Jake. “When did you?”</p><p>“I arrived the night before, on the ferry,” Patrick says. “Why did you come, are you on holiday?”</p><p>David winces, and slowly tells the story of his discovery of his parents involvement in his galleries. His hopes of publishing or selling his own art, and the way his dreams had been dashed by his parents’ lack of faith in him.</p><p>“So you just ran away?”</p><p>“That sounds pathetic, doesn’t it?” </p><p>Something about Patrick’s earnest expression and attention makes David hand over the whole of his story with little to no prompting. But Patrick is so easy to talk to, he can’t even bring himself to regret it. </p><p>“Not at all. I guess I kind of did the same thing.”</p><p>“Go on.”</p><p>“Life at home was always so-- I always did what was expected of me. My parents, friends, even my teachers all just assumed I would get a good job, an accountant maybe, or business manager, and then I would settle down, buy a house in my hometown, marry a woman.”</p><p>“And you didn’t want any of that?” David asks softly, trying not to let the curiosity show in his voice. </p><p>Patrick catches his eye with an even look. “None of it,” he replies. </p><p>David can’t help but smile. He nods, looking back up at the path as they arrive in the town. They head straight to the cafe he had entered the day before by reflex; there aren’t exactly any other options in an area so small. David tries to suppress his smile as Patrick holds the door open for him, gesturing him in with a small wave of the hand.</p><p>It’s not busy when they arrive, and they quickly get a table, ordering drinks from Twyla and settling in. David takes the opportunity to look around properly this time. The cafe has a similar rustic, barn aesthetic: worn down and degraded, but also filled with potential. </p><p>David forces himself not to linger on that thought again, and instead turns back to the handsome man in front of him, who seems to be giving him his full attention even despite David’s distractions. </p><p>“You never said how long you were staying here,” Patrick says.</p><p>“Mm, that’s because I don’t know yet.”</p><p>Patrick frowns, a silent request for more information, and David relents. </p><p>“I have nowhere else to be. No responsibilities. I cut it all off when I left, so I’m not sure. Maybe forever, maybe for another week, who knows.”</p><p>“You don’t have any sort of plan?”</p><p>“Life is not for planning, Patrick. It’s for living,” David says with a shrug. “Or so I’ve heard. I thought I’d give it a go at least.”</p><p>“Huh,” Patrick looks suitably impressed, which makes David feel some sort of hot pride. He coughs and turns the attention back to Patrick to distract from his reaction.</p><p>“I take it you have a leaving date? You seem like the sort to plan ahead.”</p><p>“What makes you say that?” Patrick asks, though he’s laughing nevertheless.</p><p>“You tried to bury your stuff in the sand, you packed a clean button up shirt in your bag even though you were supposed to be going to the beach, and you seem horrified at my spontaneity.”</p><p>“I wasn’t horrified,” Patrick grumbles. </p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>“Two weeks.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Two weeks, that’s when I’m leaving. I have a ferry ticket booked in two weeks to start the journey back home.”</p><p>“Where is home?” David asks softly. Patrick is picking at the label of his cider bottle, which has begun to sweat in the humidity of the room. He looks uncomfortable, so David reaches out a hand in an aborted gesture to comfort him, before realising how forward that would be. Instead, his hand hovers awkwardly in the air for a second before he withdraws it and tucks it back below the table. </p><p>“I’m not sure, yet. I suppose this trip was a little burst of spontaneity before I have to go back to my real life.”</p><p>David opens his mouth to say something, although he’s not sure what, but they are interrupted by the sound of a band starting up. David looks up at the stage in the back corner of the cafe. A group of people have climbed onto it, led by a blonde woman David doesn’t recognise. </p><p>“Good afternoon, Kalokairi,” she says nervously into the microphone. “This is our first official performance in front of an audience, so bear with us.” Both David and Patrick look around the room, deserted except for their table, and share a wide-eyed look. “We are the Jazzagals, and we hope you enjoy it.”</p><p>There’s a couple of minutes of silence as the band in the corner gets set up, and a soft strumming fills the room. The soft notes of <em> I Have a Dream </em>fill the room. The choir is good. Clearly unprofessional, but they seem to be happy there on the stage, and David actually finds himself enjoying the performance. </p><p>
  <em> I have a dream, a fantasy, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> To help me through, reality, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And my destination, makes it worth the while, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Pushing through the darkness, still another mile. </em>
</p><p>Something makes David sneak a look out the corner of his eye at the man sitting next to him, but it seems Patrick is already looking at him. He tries to hide his smile, looking down at the table before focusing his attention back on the performance, constantly aware of Patrick’s gaze on him.</p><p>
  <em> I believe in angels, something good in everything I see. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I believe in angels, when I know the time is right for me. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I cross the stream, I have a dream. </em>
</p><p>The performance finishes, and David and Patrick politely clap. The women climb down from the stage, some looking bashful, others uncomfortable, and life returns to normal around them. </p><p>“You know, I used to perform like that in high school,” Patrick says, out of the blue. </p><p>“You were in a women’s choir?”</p><p>Patrick snorts and shakes his head, looking amused. “No, no. I play the guitar actually. I used to take part in these Open Mic Nights at the coffee shop in my old village. It drew quite a big crowd.”</p><p>“Open Mic Night like, improv? Amateur singer songwriters?”</p><p>Patrick nods, faux sincerity written on his features. “Oh yes, I haven’t even got to the bit about my slam poetry.”</p><p>“Wow, okay. This date is officially over, thanks so much,” David says, going to stand from the table. Patrick’s hand shoots out and takes David’s forearm, tugging at him with a laugh and trying to get him to stay. </p><p>“I promise I won’t whip out anything I’m working on. I think you’d like it though.”</p><p>“Mm, I highly doubt that,” David replies, but he sits back down anyway.</p><p>“So, this is a date then?” Patrick asks after a moment. In a usual situation, David would panic at this moment; assuming that he had scared away the straight-looking guy forever, or offended him. But Patrick’s dimples have popped out, and he’s fiddling with his bottle again, as if he’s nervous about David’s response. </p><p>“I think maybe it could have been, but you ruined your chance at the first mention of improv,” David explains, waving his hands around but smiling all the while. </p><p>“Is there any way we could maybe go back and pretend I never said that then?” Patrick asks, propping one elbow on the table and leaning in slightly, his voice dropping in a way that shouldn’t be seductive at all but somehow manages to be. </p><p>“Mm. I’m not sure, you’ll have to come up with something better than that to convince me.”</p><p>“Huh,” Patrick looks around himself for a moment, as if looking for something. “Okay, I can come up with something. Come with me?”</p><p>David bites back a smile and nods. He takes Patrick’s outstretched hand and lets him lead them out onto the street. </p><p>“Where exactly are you taking me?” David asks as Patrick pulls him ahead, looking back at David all the while and clearly impatient to get somewhere. </p><p>“So, when I first got here the other day, the boat driver sold me something. Seeing as I was only really coming to the island to try and rediscover myself, be spontaneous for once, I bought it on reflex.”</p><p>“I don’t like where this is going.”</p><p>They come to a garage around the back of Ronnie’s woodshop, covered by a curtain, which Patrick whips back with emphasis, revealing a black motorcycle which frankly looks to be on its last legs. </p><p>“Oh gosh.”</p><p>“Ta-dah!”</p><p>“Is this even safe?” David asks, his hands over his mouth in shock. </p><p>“Bob said it was fine, he checked it over, and it runs pretty smooth as far as I can tell.”</p><p>Patrick looks so proud of his motorbike that David doesn’t have the heart to keep pushing against it. He’s smiling at it brightly, and he turns to David with raised eyebrows. </p><p>“Do you want to give it a go? I understand if you’re too scared to--”</p><p>“Okay, none of that,” David interrupts, his competitive spirit reigniting at the implication that it would be too much for him. “How do you get on this thing?”</p><p>“That’s the spirit.”</p><p>Somehow they manage to clamber onto the bike with minimal complaining. David finds himself sitting against Patrick, pressed together all the way against his back, and suddenly, the motorbike isn’t such a bad idea after all. </p><p>Patrick takes his hand from behind and pulls it so that his arms are around his waist, and David takes the hint to lean in even further, pushing his chin over Patrick’s shoulder and tucking his legs in. </p><p>“Hold on tight,” Patrick warns, and he kicks the machine to life. It rattles wildly beneath them before they shoot off out of the square. Patrick is careful to steer them away from any obstacles until finally they are back on the dirt path up the mountain. </p><p>As they pick up speed he clings tighter, trying not to make any desperate noises. In this moment, Patrick’s body seems to be the only solid thing in the world, as the weightless feeling of speeding over the contorted ground makes David’s stomach swoop, and the air rushing past his ears fills his senses. He focuses on the safe comfort of Patrick’s body in front of his, and tries not to close his eyes.</p><p>Patrick takes them through wooded paths, and up a cliff face, finally reaching a rocky area hidden by a copse of trees near the top of the island. He pulls them to a stop carefully. </p><p>“What are we doing here?” David asks, dismounting quite mournfully and wandering over to the edge of a nearby rock. He looks down to see a small pool area just below them, and looks out at the clear blue water around them. It’s small, but secluded, and David turns back to see Patrick staring at him, some strange emotion clear on his face.</p><p>“You wanted a proper date, David. How did I do?”</p><p>“Oh, did I say that?”</p><p>Patrick just smirks at him, slipping off his shoes and taking a seat at the edge of the pool. He dips his feet in and kicks the water casually, lying back against the smooth rock and putting his arms behind his head.</p><p>David huffs a little, pulling off his shoes again and joining Patrick at the pool, who looks at him with a smile, bumping his shoulder lightly. </p><p>“So why Kalokairi?” he asks, just as David has leant back next to him. He looks up at the light coming through the leaves of the trees and gestures at it. </p><p>“This. Everything. Where better to get away to than the end of the world?”</p><p>“Huh, I heard about that.”</p><p>“Why are you going back?”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“Why are you going back to your old life? The small town and the job and the-- everything.”</p><p>Patrick looks confused at that. “What’s the alternative?”</p><p>“There’s always an alternative. You could do anything, go anywhere.”</p><p>“Is that what you’re going to do? Travel forever?”</p><p>David turns his head to look better at Patrick. Lying out next to him, the light filtering through the trees hits his face, creating beautiful patterns across his skin. His curly hair is a brighter auburn colour from this angle, and David wishes he had his camera with him to take a picture and savour that sight forever. </p><p>“I don’t think so,” David says quietly. The moment seems to demand a softer voice. “No, I want to settle somewhere, I think.”</p><p>He bites his lip, begging the conversation to move on, and Patrick seems to get the message. </p><p>They lie there together, the cool water of the pond caressing their ankles as they look up at the sky. They joke about Patrick’s history as a performer, about his tiny swimming shorts. David laughs so hard that he wheezes, which makes Patrick overjoyed, and he spends another ten minutes trying to get that sound out of him again.</p><p>Sometime during the conversation, Patrick reaches down and puts his hand on top of David’s , palm down on the floor between them. He filters their fingers together loosely when David tentatively turns his hand over so that they are holding hands. </p><p>“What do you want to do while you’re here?” David asks, “If this is your last chance at freedom and spontaneity, what is on your bucket list?”</p><p>Patrick looks thoughtful for a moment. “The motorbike, I guess. Bob said that there is another small island if you row south from Kalokairi that’s deserted, I’d like to go there. I’d like to dance on the beach. Skinny dip, perhaps.”</p><p>His blush reaches his ears on this last one, and David tracks it with his eyes. </p><p>“Well, we’d better get started at some point, then.”</p><p>“We?”</p><p>“It’s my personal mission now to make sure you enjoy your freedom as much as physically possible.”</p><p>“What about your bucket list, David?”</p><p>“I want too much and not enough,” he says cynically. </p><p>Patrick frowns but lets it go, “It’s starting to get dark,” he says softly, and David notices how the sky has begun to darken. The trees cast long shadows, reaching into their little bubble of serenity, and the rock they are lying on has begun to cool in the evening breeze.</p><p>“Do you have somewhere else to be?”</p><p>“Nowhere,” Patrick says, his grip tightening on David’s hand. His gaze wavers from his eyes to his lips but it’s so quick that David can’t be sure. He lets the moment pass.</p><p>“Well then, let’s get started on this bucket list.” </p><p>He stands up, and moves his hands to the bottom of his shirt as if he’s about to pull it off. Patrick gapes at him, eyes and mouth wide in shock but David just laughs and shakes his head, dropping it again to cover the small patch of stomach he had revealed. </p><p>“Not just yet,” David teases, before nodding back towards the motorbike. “Think you can drive this thing over to the beach?”</p><p>They take the bike down the dirt path back towards the shore. The sun sets over the hills as they do so, casting the world with a golden glow which David savours from his perch over Patrick’s shoulder. </p><p>They get there, and David does pull off his shirt this time, tugging Patrick off the bike and towards the sea. </p><p>“David!” Patrick shouts, as he catches the t-shirt flying at his head, and places it with his button-up in the bag which he leaves with the bike. David is already at the sea in his swimming shorts, kicking around in the shore line with glee. </p><p>Patrick races after him and barks a laugh as he’s splashed in the face. </p><p>“What are we doing?”</p><p>“We’re dancing on the beach!” David exclaims, rocking back and forth in a loose version of his usual club dancing. </p><p>Patrick laughs so hard that he has to bend over and catch his breath, grabbing on hand on David’s arm to keep himself up. “You are something else, David,” he mutters, slipping his arms around David’s bare waist, his palms skimming the sensitive skin there and sending off ripples of goosebumps, making David shiver.</p><p>In retribution to his laughing, David pulls away and kicks up a large wave, splashing Patrick’s face thoroughly. He stands there in surprise for a while and David takes the opportunity to run away as Patrick recovers and races after him. </p><p>Their feet splash up water messily as David giggles manically. The sun has fully set, casting a dark light across the sand when Patrick finally catches up with him, with just a little bit too much power, knocking David onto his back in the damp sand and landing on top of him.</p><p>The first thing David’s eyes focus on are the stars, bright in the sky above them. Stars he has never seen in such vivid detail, whole constellations blinking at him from outer space, a silent, peaceful audience. </p><p>Then, it’s Patrick’s freckles, so similar to the stars, scattered across the pristine canvas of his cheeks. Patrick blinks, his eyelashes framing his beautiful brown eyes. </p><p>David doesn’t even get the chance to move his gaze to Patrick’s lips before they’re pressed to his. He gasps, his mouth opening just slightly as Patrick pushes further into him, eager to explore. </p><p>It’s a short kiss, but combined with the physical exercise, enough to keep David panting against the sand as Patrick pulls back, his pupils blown wide and lips pink and flushed against the moonlight. </p><p>“Was that--?”</p><p>David cuts him off before he can finish that likely self-deprecating thought by craning his neck up and catching his lips in another kiss, this one deeper and more wanting. Patrick’s tongue breaches the line of David’s lips and playfully teases him; giving David what he wants but never quite enough, making him work for it, chasing the sweet kisses with desperate gasps and moans. </p><p>The gentle whooshing of the shore is their soundtrack. David can feel Patrick’s heaving heartbeat against his bare chest. He lets his hands feel out the landscape of his chest; the soft, almost invisible fluff of blonde hair on his chest, the soft but solid weight of his stomach.</p><p>“David--” Patrick murmurs, smiling down at him, a rogue hand cupping David’s cheek as if he’s something tender and precious. He pecks David’s lips again and shakes his head, their noses brushing together lightly. </p><p>“What?” David replies, equally as quietly. </p><p>“I’m staying in the cottage on the hill.”</p><p>David raises an eyebrow silently for him to continue, but apparently this is the extent of Patrick’s bravery. </p><p>“So, just--” he trails off. </p><p>“What?” David asks, leaning back up to kiss a path to Patrick’s ear in what he hopes is a soothing pattern. </p><p>“We could, um, go there. If you wanted?”</p><p>“Are you propositioning me?” David says playfully. “How spontaneous of you!”</p><p>Patrick roles his eyes and pushes off the ground behind David’s head. David follows him, sitting up and grabbing him by the face, kissing him in apology. Patrick only resists for a moment before his smile matches David, and they’re pressing their grins together. </p><p>“Mm- how long will it take us to get to your little cottage?” he asks against Patrick’s mouth, feeling his attention slipping already. </p><p>Patrick just smiles and pulls him along to the bike by the hand. They clamber on, David sitting even closer to Patrick if possible, his arms tight around his waist both to fulfil his own instincts and to protect himself from the chill air of evening. </p><p>The cottage is a small brick building at the top of the hill on the opposite side of the island to the hotel. Patrick parks the bike haphazardly beside the large dark brown door and leads David in. </p><p>As soon as the door is shut, Patrick seems to turn shy. He blushes and stutters his way through offers to make drinks, and finally quietens down when David approaches him silently and cups his cheek, gently kissing him. </p><p>“I’m kind of getting the impression that you’re going through something right now, am I right?” </p><p>“What gave you that idea?” Patrick asks with an embarrassed chuckle. “It’s not-- I really do want to do this with you. I just, I’ve never- before. I don’t want to mess it up.”</p><p>“We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.” </p><p>“And what if I’m ready for it, I’m just not sure on exactly how to do these things.”</p><p>David smiles fondly. He’s so fond of this man, and he’s only known him for half a day. “Then we will work it out together,” he promises, pressing their foreheads together. “There is no pressure. What do you want to do?”</p><p>“Will you kiss me again?”</p><p>He does, catching Patrick’s lips in a slow, unhurried kiss. He’s surprised, and a little disgruntled, when he pulls away after only a few short kisses. </p><p>“One second.”</p><p>David watches as Patrick rushes across the room to the record player. He seems to already know what songs he wants to play, and within seconds, the sound of a piano is filling the room, accompanied by a full orchestra of violins.</p><p>
  <em> I- I have known love before, I thought it would no more, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Take on a new direction, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Still, strange as it seems to be, it’s truly new to me,  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> That affection. </em>
</p><p>Patrick crosses the room back towards David. He seems calmer now, with the music on. Like he inhabits his body more wholly. His hands go to David’s waist almost automatically as he leans to one side and kisses him again. </p><p>
  <em> I- I don’t know what you do, you make me think that you, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Will change my life forever, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I- I’ll always want you near, give up on you my dear, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I will never. </em>
</p><p>Kissing Patrick feels like being worshipped. David has to anchor himself to the moment with his arms around his neck just to keep himself upright. Patrick’s hands constantly move with the music, skimming his waist, his back, up to his shoulders and round to his chest, like he’s memorising the sculpture of David’s body. They dance together in the dark light of the stone cottage, rocking back and forth in a loose embrace.</p><p>
  <em> You thrill me, you delight me, you please me, you excite me,  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You’re all that I’ve been yearning for. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I love you, I adore you, I lay my life before you, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I only want you more and more. </em>
</p><p>The journey towards the bed is so natural they almost don’t realise it’s happening until David’s back hits the mattress and the soft sheets. </p><p>They move together in sync, David taking the lead and Patrick following eagerly. He makes soft, sweet noises that David swallows down greedily, and returns with equal enthusiasm. He cries out in an almost sobbing noise as David works his hand between them, and arches up to kiss Patrick through it, following closely behind him with a low groan. </p><p>When all is satiated, David watches as Patrick blinks in the low light of the room, his cheeks flush and glowing. He reaches out for David’s hand and raises them up, tangling their fingers together slowly to give him the opportunity to explore the expanse of David’s palm. His fingertips explore the ridges and bumps of his silver rings, skating across them with rapt focus. </p><p>David can’t resist kissing him again in that dark room, in the cool cottage at the top of the hill, and lets himself imagine, for just one moment, a life where he gets to have this every day.</p><p>
  <em> And finally it seems my lonely days are through,  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I’ve been waiting for you. </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Patrick is finally here!! </p><p>The references in this chapter are I Believe in Angels by the Jazzagals, and I've Been Waiting for You, as well as the chapter from Lay All Your Love on Me.</p><p>Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please let me know what you thought by leaving me a comment if you're so inclined, it would really make me smile !! ❤️</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Somewhere in the Crowd there's You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>So imagine I was glad to hear you coming,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Suddenly I feel alright.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>And it's gonna be so different when I'm on the stage tonight.</em>
</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Little announcement! I'll be posting this fic every day for the next week; I want to get it all published before I go back to university so I will be posting one chapter every day until Saturday!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> Dear Diary, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> What a night! </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I met this guy Patrick on the beach, on my very first day here, and he said he’d show me the island. It turns out he’s running away from something too. We have so much in common, we ended up spending the whole day together.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> We danced on the beach, and we kissed on the beach, and… </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Patrick’s so different to the others. He’s so special to me already, I think there might really be something here, and for the first time I don’t want to run away. I’ve never felt like this before. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He’s never done anything like this with a guy before, so I want to be careful, but I know that this is something I don’t want to ruin. I feel different with Patrick; I want to be different with Patrick. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Dawn breaks, bringing with it the scent of coffee, and the feeling of Patrick’s bare chest against David’s back. He sighs into it, pushing back just enough to feel Patrick’s eager response, before turning over and accepting his state of consciousness. </p><p>“Good morning,” Patrick whispers. His face is washed in the light from the old cottage window as the tattered curtain does little to shield from the outside. But the sun has done him some good as his pink skin is flushed and soft. </p><p>“Mhm, could say that,” David replies, giving up on politeness and instead just relaxing into Patrick’s willing arms. He presses his forehead into his chest and breathes in the scent of the sea air and whatever woody cologne Patrick must have been wearing the day before. “What time is it?”</p><p>“Time doesn’t exist here, David. We’re on an island on the edge of the world. It’s whatever time you want it to be.”</p><p>“That’s a very beautiful statement but if it is before eight o’clock right now I will never speak to you again.”</p><p>“That’s fine with me,” Patrick murmurs, leaning down to brush his nose against David’s ear. “Plenty of things we can do without talking.”</p><p>“A man gets one hand job and suddenly he’s all Casanova.”</p><p>Patrick just shrugs and kisses the shell of David’s ear. He would be embarrassed by the shiver he lets out in response but he’s too distracted by Patrick’s hand which has made its way up over his hip, skimming the hair at the bottom of David’s navel. </p><p>One kiss turns to several, turns to a whole morning spent in bed, sweaty and comfortable in the hot sheets as Patrick explores everything he’s never had the chance to before. He’s a quick study, and David finds himself grasping at the mattress, his fingers digging into the material as he writhes under Patrick’s mouth and tongue.</p><p>“You’re so good at that already,” David mutters, pulling him up to kiss against his mouth, the saltiness making him recoil and screw up his nose, which makes Patrick laugh. </p><p>They shower one after the other, David already mourning the loss of his skin care, before Patrick notices him staring at the swimming shorts from the night before. He lends David a pair of his sweatpants and a t-shirt and drives him back across the island to the hotel, where David re-showers with the proper skin regime, and dresses in a pair of extremely revealing shorts. </p><p>As soon as David exits his little bathroom, Patrick is on him, hungry kisses and sweet murmuring about how good he looks, and how much he wants him.</p><p>They end up spending the majority of that day and the next few exploring their desires in the sheets. First at David’s hotel room, with its worn down wooden bed and then, after a leak in the roof one night due to a particularly heavy storm forces them to vacate the premises, back at Patrick’s little cottage, this time with a bag packed with all the necessities prepared. </p><p>“We probably shouldn't be spending so much time in bed,” David mutters, the morning of their fourth day together. They are spread across the sheets, naked and panting as Patrick nods off beside him, even despite the midmorning sun glaring through the curtains at them. “You have a whole list of activities to get through.”</p><p>“Why would we have to leave the bed to complete them? Also I think I’m gonna need an hour or so to recover from that last round.”</p><p>“Not that list,” David laughs, shoving at him in affectionate annoyance. “The bucket list. You wanted to go skinny dipping, and dance on the beach, and all that stuff.”</p><p>Patrick smiles up at him, still in a post-orgasm daze, his eyes squinting closed as he looks at David as if he’s staring into the sun. “We already danced on the beach,” he murmurs dreamily.</p><p>“That doesn’t count. Come on, we have a whole island to explore.”</p><p>Finally, they get out of bed (after some more thorough convincing). David dresses in a similar pair of black swim shorts, fluffs up his slightly curly hair, unable to tame it in the humid heat and salty water than continues to get into it, and a white short sleeved button-up which is more to cover his chest for decency than anything else.</p><p>He is just coming out of the bathroom when he stops, and his jaw drops at the horror before him. </p><p>“What on earth are those?”</p><p>Patrick looks down at his <a href="https://www.harveynichols.com/brand/bluemint/396518-arthus-blush-shark/p3845792/">swim shorts</a>. They’re monstrous things; pink, with teal coloured sharks covering the fabric. “These are called swimming trunks, David. They’re pretty expensive as well. Before I came here I bought like a load of them from Harvey Nichols. Figured since I was still trying to work out who I was that I should experiment a little.”</p><p>“Do you have any other options?” David asks, his voice getting higher as he continues to glare at the shorts.</p><p>“You seemed to like the trunks I wore the day we met,” Patrick mutters, swaying his hips a little too confidently as he heads to his trunk which is propped open on the floor in the corner. </p><p>“If you remember correctly I actually think I threw them across the room at the first available opportunity, so. Take from that what you will.”</p><p>Unfortunately, Patrick doesn’t pull out a change in swimming shorts from his case, and instead pulls on a white t-shirt and some boat shoes, turning to look at David with a cheeky grin. “You’ll have to wait for a later date to see my other pairs,” he teases. </p><p>Just before they leave the cottage, he reaches out, pulling David’s sunglasses off his face and putting them on his own nose. “Are these prescription lenses?” he asks, wrinkling his nose as he peers through them.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>David snatches the glasses back, ignoring the fond, exasperated look that Patrick is shooting him, and places them back on his face. </p><p>“I believe you had a plan for today? Something you wanted to tick off your little list?”</p><p>“I did, come on. We have to go and pick something up first,” Patrick says, his enthusiasm returning as he leads them both out of the cottage.</p><p>They mount the motorbike, a well practiced habit at this point, and trundle down the hill towards the town square. Patrick ditches the bike outside Ronnie’s woodshop and heads across the road, kissing David quickly on the lips before disappearing into the cafe. </p><p>“David Rose, how are you finding Kalokairi?” Ronnie asks, emerging from the darkness of her store and leaning against the wall, using a greasy grey rag to wipe at the stains on her hands. “I see you found a friend.”</p><p>David blushes and shakes his head. “It’s a beautiful island, I love it here.”</p><p>“Had any thoughts about a permanent move?”</p><p>“Not yet, nothing is decided.”</p><p>“Well, it would be nice to have you here a while longer.”</p><p>She turns to go, but David stops here. “Ronnie? Why is that lot next to the cafe empty?”</p><p>Ronnie looks over at it and shrugs. “It used to be a clothes store of some kind, the Fernando I think it was called. Anyway, the owner, Wendy, got married again and left the island to move with her husband and his boyfriend to Sweden, we never heard from her again.”</p><p>“Sounds--”</p><p>“Risky, yeah, probably. Nobody else has put an offer in for it. Not enough tourists come to the island to make it worth the risk, I guess.”</p><p>“Hmm.”</p><p>“I think the building belongs to Ray now, although he never does anything with his properties. He owns the cottage on the hill as well.”</p><p>David frowns and turns towards her. “The cottage-- You mean the one over there? The stone one?”</p><p>She nods. “Ray grew up here, but he lives in Petras now. Border control I think, or perhaps photography. He owns a lot of the properties on the island and usually rents them out for pretty low prices to the travellers here. That’s who would have told your little boyfriend about the cottage.”</p><p>“He’s not my--”</p><p>David cuts off as they both turn to watch Patrick rushing out of the cafe, oversized picnic bag hanging off his arm as he struggles to hold both it and the door open for another lady. </p><p>“David!” he exclaims as he heads over. He greets him with a kiss, not seeming to notice the company, and thrusts the basket into his arms. “I wasn’t sure what type of muffin you’d prefer so I got you one of each. Are you ready to go?”</p><p>He finally seems to notice Ronnie’s presence and tampers down his excitement slightly, looking between the pair cautiously. Ronnie looks him over with a judgemental eye before making a grunting noise and spinning on her heel to head back into the shop. </p><p>“Keep me updated, David.”</p><p>“Thank you Ronnie,” David shouts back. “What is all this?”</p><p>“It’s a surprise. Come on, we should get going,” Patrick replies, using some sort of rope system to tie the basket to the back of the bike before clambering back on and waiting for David to join him. David does so, kissing the skin behind his ear as he mounts and enjoying watching the blush travel up Patrick’s neck before they kick off the ground in the direction of the open sea. </p><p>When David sees the small white row boat with an orange and blue design painted on it he almost pulls out, imagining running back up the mountain and away from the ridiculousness that is Patrick Brewer. Instead, he takes a deep breath, clenches his fists a few times and nods decisively. </p><p>“Yeah?” Patrick asks, seeming aware that David’s involvement in this scheme wasn’t certain. </p><p>“Yeah. This trip is about adventures, so let’s have an adventure.”</p><p>“You’re incredible, David Rose,” Patrick says, kissing him firmly on the lips before pulling back. “You won’t regret this.”</p><p>“Mm, I’m not so sure about that,” David mutters, looking back at the boat. </p><p>They approach it on the pebble bit of beach. Patrick holds it steady with his arms while David climbs in tentatively, the boat rocking underneath him, and accepts the picnic basket. Patrick follows with a little more elegance and soon enough they’re off, Patrick tugging at the oars as they drift away from the island. </p><p>David giggles as he struggles to keep them in place, but Patrick is determined, clinging to the white oars and biting his lip, concentration clear in the ridge between his eyebrows. </p><p>“Are you sure you know what you’re doing here?” David asks, as they move at a snail’s pace. </p><p>“Well. I’m hoping that if I keep pulling on these two wooden things, then eventually, we might bump into some land.”</p><p>“Sounds pretty brave. What exactly is your plan here?” David asks, looking around at the serene blue water, and not-so-discreetly watching Patrick’s arms flex as he rows them away. </p><p>“In that basket there is a picnic prepared for us by Twyla. Cheese, and crackers, and some of her homemade muffins.”</p><p>“Can I take a look?”</p><p>“Go ahead.”</p><p>David flips back the red checkered blanket covering the contents of the basket and pokes around in it for a bit. There is indeed some nice looking cheese; the label says that it was made by Heather Warner, a name that David doesn’t recognise, but assumes is local. </p><p>“Ooh la la,” he coosat the sight of several bottles of cider and various sweet treats before placing it back carefully at their feet. “And what’s in your bag?”</p><p>“That’s a surprise for when we get there,” Patrick grins, winking at David cheesily but looking so pleased with himself that he can’t even complain. “But, I did pack this for you.”</p><p>He opens the bag and pulls out David’s small black polaroid camera, passing it carefully along the length of the boat and putting it in David’s hands.</p><p>“Why did you pack this?” David asks. </p><p>“I thought you might want to use it, you were all about making memories, right? So, let’s make some.”</p><p>“I don’t need to make memories with this. I’m not going to forget a thing about our time together,” David insists, perhaps a little too honestly, but Patrick doesn’t seem to mind. </p><p>“Even so. Humour me?”</p><p>David flips off the lens cap and immediately holds up the camera, not giving Patrick the time to react before snapping a few shots of him. His white shirt is tight across his chest, and he’s rowing backwards into the sun. Even despite the garish colours of his pink swim shorts he looks radiant. The camera picks up the halo of light that always seems to surround him, which David is thankful for, and he laughs as the next shot includes Patrick sticking his tongue out in response to David’s hums of appreciation.</p><p>“Beautiful,” David teases, holding the pictures in his hand delicately as he waits for them to appear. He places them in the camera case and jumps as Patrick addresses him. </p><p>“Hold these, I want to take pictures of you,” Patrick says, handing him the oars.</p><p>David rolls his eyes but accepts, and poses for the camera, his face stern and cut off. That is, until Patrick blows a raspberry in annoyance which makes David laugh. He gets a couple of shots of David, mid-laugh, his eyes squinted closed and his mouth open as he cackles. Patrick claims they’re his favourite and takes them for himself, tucking them safely into his bag at the bottom of the boat.</p><p>The situation gets dire when Patrick, in a fit of inspiration, decides he wants a shot of him and David together. He stands up and wobbles across the boat, David yelling warnings until they’re sat on the wooden bench together, their backs to the cliffs of Kalokairi. </p><p>Patrick holds the camera up and presses closer to David, snapping a few of them smiling, and then finally one of him turning David’s head with his other hand to press their lips together. </p><p>“Beautiful,” Patrick murmurs, still looking at David’s face as he strokes his chin, kisses him again before snapping back into steering mode. </p><p>They dock at a rocky area of beach a short while later, and Patrick helps David clamber up onto the shore. They rush up the grassy cliff together to the top where David focuses on setting up the picnic in the most aesthetically pleasing way, next to an old tree on the cliff edge, Kalokairi in the distance. </p><p>“I could get used to this,” Patrick muses, lying down along the blanket, his head in David’s lap as he chews thoughtfully on the remnants of a blueberry muffin.</p><p>David strokes patterns into his curling hair, the locks tickling his fingers as he tangles them around, and looks down at him thoughtfully. “Then why don’t you?”</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>“Okay. I’m going to say something ridiculous, and I need you to be quiet for a moment while I talk,” he says, holding a ringed hand up to silence Patrick’s confusion as he sits up and turns to face David, confusion written on his features. </p><p>“Tell me.”</p><p>David takes a deep breath and starts talking. “I made my mind up, about what we were talking about the other day. About where I would go after this, and I’ve decided, I don’t think I’m finished with this place just yet. I think I want to stay here, and build something on this little island.”</p><p>Patrick’s face is deceptively blank as David talks, but his furrowed eyebrows go a little deeper.</p><p>“And I think you should too.”</p><p>“David, I--”</p><p>“No, you need to listen,” he freezes, “Sorry that was way harsher than I meant. I think we should make a choice, to do something ridiculous, and wonderful. I want to live in this extraordinary place, out of contact from the rest of the world, and I want to stay here with someone-- Someone miraculous, someone that makes me feel right, like nobody has ever made me feel before.”</p><p>Patrick remains silent, mulling it over, while David pulls at his rings, slipping them on and off nervously. </p><p>“Say something? Please?”</p><p>“I don’t know what to say, David.”</p><p>David nods sadly, looking down and fiddling with a loose thread from the blanket. </p><p>“I mean-- I want to, so much, it’s just all happening so fast and I-- Can I have some time to think about it?”</p><p>David forces a smile even despite the sinking in his stomach. “You can have as much time as you need.”</p><p>An awkward atmosphere settles for a moment, before Patrick reaches over to his bag. </p><p>“Want to see what I brought?”</p><p>Patrick pulls out a beautiful ring-bound book, with a simple cardboard backing, and some graphite pencils. He passes them to David, who accepts them with wide eyes and holds them gently in his arms, as if cradling something delicate. </p><p>“What’s this?”</p><p>“It’s a sketchbook. You said that when you found out about your parents funding your galleries, it was because you had wanted to start doing your own art. Well, this was all I could find at late notice; the sketchbook is made by a local craftsman and so are the pencils. I thought, where better to reignite your creative side than here?”</p><p>David has to blink tears from his eyes, and can’t resist leaning forward and kissing Patrick deeply. The book gets shoved to the side as he prioritises getting into David’s lap as quickly as possible, and soon enough they’re a mess of limbs, resting together in the shade provided by the branches of the tree. </p><p>“You like the gift, then?” Patrick asks after he has been passionately thanked.</p><p>“Uh yeah, I like the gift.”</p><p>The rest of the afternoon is spent lazing on the ground, trading soft kisses. David draws the curve of Patrick’s nose, the twinkle of his eyes. He spends almost an hour perfecting the grooves of his palms and trying to get his freckles exactly right. </p><p>Patrick sits still through it all, smirking slightly as David directs him into position. He never asks to see the finished sketches, though he doesn’t hide his curiosity. </p><p>They row back to the island after David starts complaining that if they wait until darkness the moths will come out. In the bed at Patrick’s cottage, David shows his appreciation thoroughly, until he’s writhing beneath him desperately, on the verge of tears. </p><p>The cycle begins again; early morning kisses and more, a breakfast of freshly squeezed orange juice and blow jobs. </p><p>They hit the second week of Patrick’s say; a morose occasion that neither acknowledges, but both seem to realise. </p><p>One evening, after spending the last however many days solely in each other’s company, Patrick takes David back to the cafe for a drink. David is unsurprised to see the Jazzagals preparing for another performance, as has become custom on their dates so far to the cafe. But he is more surprised when, after their opening number, Patrick stands up. He heads to the side of the stage and, with his guitar thrown over his shoulder, stands in front of the microphone. </p><p>“Um, thank you,” he says bashfully, as the women, excluding Ronnie, who has her arms crossed and is watching him with suspicion, applaud him. “I’m very lucky to be here, so I'll make this short. This is for someone who has become very special to me; David Rose.”</p><p>David winces, and tries to hide his face, but there is no point in trying to hide in a room filled with people who know him.</p><p>Patrick plucks gently on the guitar; those talented fingers strumming melodies that fill David’s body with a thrumming feeling; like something miraculous is taking place, in this run down cafe at the edge of the earth. </p><p>And then, somehow, Patrick starts to sing. His voice is soft and warm, as earnest as the looks he gives David when he’s just waking up; sweet innocence mixed with a tinge of surprise to find David still there.</p><p>
  <em> Take it easy, with me please, touch me gently, like a summer evening breeze. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Take your time, make it slow. Andante Andante, just let the feeling grow. </em>
</p><p>He’s looking at David now, smiling lightly, like he knows exactly the effect he’s having. Like he knows that nobody has ever treated David with such delicacy, such sweetness. </p><p>
  <em> Make your fingers soft and light. Let your body be the velvet of the night. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Touch my soul, you know how. Andante Andante, go slowly with me now.  </em>
</p><p>David tries against all might to hide his smile, but he can feel the corners of his lips betraying him, as he watches this wonderful, ridiculous man, make a fool of himself on stage, and actually turn it into something beautiful. </p><p>
  <em> I’m your music, I’m your song.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Play me time and time again, and make me strong. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Make me sing, make me sound.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Andante Andante, tread lightly on my ground. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Andante Andante, oh please, don’t let me down. </em>
</p><p>By the end of the song, David’s eyes are red and wrung out. He sniffs pathetically, and stands from their table as Patrick approaches, throwing himself into his arms in a desperate fervour and tucking his head safely into his neck; hidden from the prying eyes of the small group still watching. </p><p>“Will you take a walk with me, David?” Patrick asks, their heads pressed together making his voice quiet and soft, the rumbling of his chest travels through David’s body as he talks. </p><p>David accepts, silently nodding, as the words escape his grasp. Patrick leads him out to the cool street, where they wander down the cobblestones, pressed together all the way up one side. </p><p>At the edge of the sand, David holds on to Patrick’s arm to kick off his shoes, which Patrick takes from him and they wander across the sand in silence. They listen to the tide rushing in to caress the beach, before retreating, out of no choice of its own. </p><p>Patrick stops a few steps from the sea and turns to face David. The moon frames them as he leans in and kisses David tenderly on the lips. </p><p>“I want to stay,” he mumbles against David’s mouth. </p><p>“We’re going to have to go home at some point, it’ll get cold.”</p><p>Patrick pouts teasingly and rubs his hands up and down David’s shoulders as if to warm him. He’s smiling when they kiss again. </p><p>“David, I want to stay.”</p><p>It dawns on David what he’s saying, and he steps out of Patrick’s arms to try and fully grasp what he means. “You, you want to-- stay?” he asks softly, tears welling in his eyes as he covers his mouth with his hands in shock.</p><p>Patrick takes David’s face in his hands, who tries to retreat, worried about the messy tears and ugly flush on his face, but Patrick doesn’t relent. “I want to stay with you. David, I’ve never felt as right as I do here, with you. I want to stay, as long as you’ll have me.”</p><p>David sobs against Patrick’s mouth as he pulls him back in. Gripping his shoulders with desperation as if afraid that if he’ll let go Patrick will disappear forever.</p><p>“Please don’t cry,” he murmurs. “Please. I’m staying.”</p><p>“I’m just so happy,” David says, tightening his arms around Patrick’s neck, and kissing him deeply. Patrick’s tongue is hot and insistent as he pushes further into David. </p><p>They take the motorbike back to the cottage together, and Patrick leads him inside. He kisses every bare patch of David’s skin, stripping him swiftly and pushing him down into the mattress as if to physically remind him of his presence. </p><p>“You’re going to stay,” David is muttering, pulling Patrick closer with his ankles, hooked around his back, until there is no space at all between them.</p><p>“I’m going to stay.”</p><p>Patrick presses into David with a relieved sigh, as they push and pull at each other needily. The sense of coming home is irresistible. He kisses and licks and bites David’s skin, marking him up as they come together with a cry. </p><p>“I’m going to stay with you,” he continues to promise, once all is said and done. David nods and relaxes against him, willing, for the first time, to give up his worries and let himself fall. </p><p>Of course, it’s the next day that it all comes crashing down.</p><p>The letter is just lying there, open, on the worktop of Patrick’s kitchen. He’s gone down to the cafe on a coffee run, and David doesn’t mean to open it, but something compels him to slip it out of the envelope. An errant curiosity disguising the concern that it will hold bad news.</p><p>A picture of Patrick and a red headed woman falls out, sitting together on a couch in what looks like his family's house. </p><p>They are smiling politely at the camera where they are sat with their hands clasped. It’s not the easy going grin that David is so familiar with, it’s something different, trying hard. It makes David sad to see, but also...</p><p>He holds his breath, and unfolds the letter, his heart beating time in his chest.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Patrick,  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I won’t pretend to understand why you left on your travels so quickly, but I understand your need for space. But we’re better than this, and the time apart has just proved to me how important you are to have in my life.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> This isn’t over between us, we’ve done it before and we’ll do it again. I’ll be anxiously awaiting your return, and looking forward to working all this mess out.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I love you Patrick, and I know that you love me too.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I can’t wait to marry you, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Rachel </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The tide retreats, leaving the damp sand to mourn its absence alone.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Patrick sings the song Andante, Andante to David, and the title is from Super Trouper! 🏝</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. If I Trust in You, Would You Let Me Down?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>Would you laugh at me?</em>
  <br/>
  <em>If I said I cared for you,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Would you feel the same way too?</em>
</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry to surprise you with another chapter, I want to get them all posted before I move back to uni since I'm worried I'll forget to publish them when I'm back to uni work!</p><p>Hope you enjoy this chapter!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Patrick enters the front door laden with drinks and muffins, clueless of the change that has already overtaken the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Twyla was telling me about her Aunt again. You’re right, she must be lying, there’s no chance that anyone would actually--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He spots the letter, but David is already storming out of the door past him. He rushes down the stairs, ignoring Patrick’s shouts to stop, and through the town centre. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“David-- David, please. Listen to me. It’s not what you think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ronnie, working on a project of new chairs for the cafe, watches the pair storming past from her door. David, with his head up and tears blurring his eyes, and Patrick trailing behind, trying to get him to stop, apologising for something. She whistles out a breath and shakes her head. She always knew that boy was trouble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we please talk about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David continues to march onwards. Up the stone steps to the hotel they go, the sounds of the sea filling the distance as David tries to get far enough away from the cottage, as if to escape his very emotions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sky is blue from the top of the hill, reaching out across the shining sea; a grotesque reminder of how happy David had been, how happy he’d thought he could be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick is fully sobbing by the time they arrive at the old hotel, messy tracks of tears drying on his cheeks as he heaves desperate, needy breaths. David is hardly any better, but he’s calm enough to turn around on the front step, swinging his dark eyes around on Patrick and fixing him with a glare. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want to talk about this? Fine, I’m going to ask you some questions, and you’re going to answer them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“David--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you engaged to the woman from the photo?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick hangs his head, tears dropping to the floor as his shoulders shake with sobs. “No I-- I called it off before I left.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> engaged to her then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For a little while, not long at all. But I couldn’t do it, so I called it off and I ran away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Embarrassment burns in David’s chest at the fact that he had shared his whole shameful story, and that Patrick had told him nothing of this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does she know that you’re not going home to marry her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, I don’t-- No. I told her we’d talk when I went back, but I’m not going back, David. I’m staying here with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And were you ever going to tell me any of this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick looks up to him with a horrified expression. Every instinct in David’s body screams at him to comfort the man, but he stands his ground, his jaw set and tense. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I was going to tell you, David. I just-- I know what you’ve been through in the past, and I needed to make sure you knew that this isn’t some experiment to me. I was so scared of pushing you away that I--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That you hid an engagement. And you were just going to let this woman believe that you would return and marry her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“David, you are the most important thing to me, I couldn’t-- I couldn’t lose you,” Patrick cries desperately. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you were better than that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David covers his face with his hands and takes slow, calming breaths, trying to force his body to relax. Patrick doesn’t seem to be able to manage it though. His breaths are wracked and desperate as he nods at David’s statement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right. Of course, you’re right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I need you to go now,” David says slowly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“David please, I-- I don’t want this to end here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me neither. But I know how this goes, and I should have known better than to trust you. I know who I am. I am damaged goods. You should get off this island and go home. It was what you were always intending anyway, so. I don’t know why I expected any different.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick looks at him brokenly, shaking his head as if to shake himself loose of a nightmare. “I’m going to go home, and I’m going to talk to her, and I’m going to sort everything out,” he says, waving his hands around as if to magically organise it all right there in the air. “But I’ll come back, I swear I’ll come back, David.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick seems like he’s going to reach out, but catches himself at the last minute. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll come back,” he says again, staring at David with a tormented expression. He clasps his hands together and nods resolutely, turning and walking down the steps back towards the town.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah, right.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>David cries an ocean’s worth of tears when he returns to the cottage a day later to collect his things, safe in the knowledge that Patrick will be long off the island by now. He finds his moisturisers and clothes in the place he had left them, some still tangled in with Patrick’s personal belongings, as if he really intends on coming back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David knows better than to hang onto false hope. He packs Patrick’s clothes along with his own, assuming that another stranger might be inhabiting the cottage soon enough and wouldn’t want to be laden with his leftovers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He finds his black journal hidden on Patrick’s bedside table, complete with his contact details pencilled in to the back pages with the others. He thumbs the edge of the page sadly, looking at his own neat scrawl, before snapping the book shut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, he spots Patrick’s guitar case in the corner. On opening it, he finds it, the guitar from the other night, the night Patrick had promised to stay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulls it out of the case and holds it in his lap for a while, strumming the out of tune chords just to fill the silence, and finally just clasping it to his chest, the closest thing to a hug he can get at this moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David adds the guitar and record player to the pile of things to take back to the hotel, and makes several trips to drop it all off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He supposes he probably should have made use of one of the spare rooms, but it doesn’t feel right to leave them in a dusty, unkempt room. Instead, Patrick’s belongings end up slotting back in with his own in his room, including the red checkered blanket from their picnic, and the guitar, which ends up propped against the wall on Patrick’s side of the bed. A physical replacement for the gaping hole Patrick had left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He spends the next week or so moping around the hotel, before finally running out of food and heading down to the town square. He slips into the cafe, his head hung, and forces a smile at Twyla who looks sympathetic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, David. Can I get you anything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll just have a cup of tea, thank you Twyla. And maybe a small bowl of soup. And a sandwich. Oh, And maybe throw in one of the muffins, because they’re always really good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nods as she heads back around the counter, leaving David to find a table. He goes to one in the corner - the only one he hasn’t already sat at with Patrick, and sighs, collapsing into the creaky wooden chair and putting his head in his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shouldn’t have come here with Patrick so much. Shouldn’t have gone anywhere with Patrick so much. It was just getting his hopes up, to keep watching and waiting for him to just slip back into David’s life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bell above the cafe rings, and his head snaps up, some unknown hope left in his heart that the person standing there will have brown eyes, and an earnest smile and a--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“David?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stevie?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“David!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The small woman rushes across the room just as he pushes out of his chair, and bounds into his open arms. They grip at each other desperately, and Stevie stills as David’s shoulders start to shake with tears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s happened? Are you okay?” she asks, pulling back to get a good look at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing here?” David ignores her question in favour for rubbing a hand over his face to try to hide the tears. “I can’t believe you’re here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had a week off from the hotel. I thought I’d come and see what all the fuss is about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But how did you--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I met this woman, Ronnie? When I docked, and asked her if she’d seen some lanky no-good man with funky clothes and she said she’d seen you heading here this morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Funky--” he looks down at his grey, draped ‘mourning’ sweater paired with swimming trunks and gives her a shove. “These are Givenchy!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shoves him lightly back with a smile that he can’t help but mirror. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sit with me? I was just going to have something to eat, then I can show you the island.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stevie agrees and together they devour the food set in front of them. She teases him mercilessly as he talks about the hotel, and settling down here to build something. It’s good, it feels natural to sit with Stevie and just talk to her about things; easy in a way it’s not usually been before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they leave the cafe, David takes Stevie up to the hotel to drop her bags in one of the spare rooms before leading her down to the beach. They pass the docks on the way, where Ronnie waves to them from a small sailing boat as they wander arm in arm towards the sand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my God, look at this!” Stevie exclaims just as they are about to hit the beach. She rushes off to a small shed by the docks and stands next to a motorbike. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Patrick’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> motorbike, parked under a linoleum roof shelter. “I’ve always wanted one of these. Do you think someone owns it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um-- I don’t think you’d be able to take that back to Paris,” David chokes out, looking anywhere but the bike. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, but it’s gorgeous, maybe I can find out who owns it and borrow it for the week.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think you should do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stevie immediately catches on to his weird mood, and drops her hands, looking at the bike in a different light. “You know, it’s not actually that nice. A bit rusty, probably a death trap.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. It rides pretty smooth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nods in confirmation of her assumption and pulls him back away from the little shed towards the beach. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stevie looks thoughtful. “Maybe we should clear the air before you tell me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” David says slowly, unsure of where this is going.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not here on some sort of romantic declaration, and I’m not here to try and win you back or anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, yes. I gathered that from how insulting you’ve been to my clothes and appearance ever since you arrived, but do go on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looks embarrassed, staring at their feet traipsing through the sand as she continues. “You know, I have never met anyone like you. And I work in a cheap hotel in the middle of a tourist trap, so I meet a lot of people. But you’re the first that I feel like I could really be friends with, you know? And this weird couple checked in at the motel, and I just really wanted to talk to you about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, you’re here for--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m here because we left it in kind of a weird way, and you are too important to me to be just a summer fling. I want more than that. I want to be your friend. I kind of feel like you’re already mine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David sniffs and nods, his chest aching with the weight of the honest conversation. It’s strange to hear such sincerity from someone so filled with sarcastic taunts, but he believes her immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” he says slowly, feeling about as awkward as Stevie has been acting. “If I’m being honest, I think I’d prefer to have a friend like you right now than anything else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even more than your mystery heart-breaker?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s teasing him, but David can tell she’s genuinely concerned as he huffs a little and shrugs. “He wasn’t a heart-breaker he was just--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was what? Did he cheat on you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, no, not really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did he leave without telling you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No-- I, I told him to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stevie frowns. “Did he not feel the same way you felt about him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David shrugs and forces a sad little chuckle to try and stop himself from crying. “I think he felt exactly the same way about me as I do about him. And it makes it so much harder--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then what happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David takes a few moments to try and sort his thoughts into something coherent. His brain is screaming Patrick; thoughts of his teasing smile when he tackled David into the sand, his mucky face after a day of running around the island, his kisses, which were like an exploration and coming home all at once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Real life caught up with us, I guess. He had to go home. He, um, he was engaged to a woman, and called it off before he left, but she didn’t believe it, I guess. He never told me about it. So he’s gone home to sort this whole thing out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s coming back, then?” Stevie asks, ever the logic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David shakes his head. “No, I know how this goes. He’ll get back to the real world and that will be it. He’ll marry the girl, or maybe he won’t, but I won’t be seeing him again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He slumps down in the sand on a little bank. The wind picks up little molecules of it and throws them around in wavy patterns in the air, getting into his eyes and his hair, but he can’t build up the courage to care.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stevie sits next to him, curling up her legs and tucking her head onto his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry, David.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he mumbles, resting their heads together and closing his eyes. “Me too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*** </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick Brewer swings the strap of his bag higher onto his shoulder as he steps off the last ferry of the day, back to Kalokairi. The sun is just setting, and there is an unfamiliar chill on the island, making him grateful for the thick wool of his blue jumper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s anxious to see David again, the journey was long and difficult, but no harder than the conversations he’d had with his family and Rachel back at home. It had taken a lot of explaining to get through to them, and he’s pretty sure they still don’t understand his obsession with the island, but they let him go anyway, waving him off at the airport at the beginning of his trip back to David. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s pretty sure his big family coming out should have been a bigger deal, but for the whole trip all Patrick could focus on was getting back to David and fixing everything he’d missed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This pier is a different one to where he had arrived just three short weeks ago. It’s smaller, generally used for the fishing boats, suited to the smaller boat he had been sat in. It creaks under his steps as he makes his way up towards the sand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Brewer,” a voice interrupts his thoughts, and he looks up to see Ronnie, pulling at some rope where she has docked her own small boat. She looks angrier than usual at his presence, and gives him a look up and down. “I’m surprised you had the guts to show up here again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I assume you saw what happened,” Patrick bristles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Saw, heard, watched the consequences. You really messed that one up, didn’t you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, I know you don’t like me much, and I hope it’s because you are protective of David and not some other reason. But you must know that I never intended for any of this to happen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And yet you came back. I assume to mess with him again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not messing with him, I--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it’s too late.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick freezes. “What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Some girl docked yesterday morning, said she was an ex of David’s. They’re together now, up at the old hotel probably, re-connecting. They had quite the public reunion apparently.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick tries to shake his head as if to clear his thoughts, but he can’t reconcile his understanding. “What do you mean?” he repeats in a quiet voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clearly someone came to pick up the pieces before you got the chance. She’s pretty. Seems more suited to David than you could ever be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t know that,” Patrick argues, but his voice doesn’t carry. He turns back around and looks at the boat he had just vacated. Maybe he got this whole thing wrong. He’d said to David that he would be coming back, but David never said he would wait for him. He didn’t seem to believe him when he said it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not a bad idea,” Ronnie says, seeing him look. “David seems happy with this girl. He’s smiling again for the first time since you left. I would really prefer you didn’t mess that up, and I’m sure he would too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I thought we were--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Far be it from me to step on your toes,” Ronnie says with a shrug, turning back to her boat. “But I think we both know you only get one chance with David Rose. Looks like you blew it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick sits on the beach for an hour trying to make his mind up. He lowers himself onto a bank in the sand and lets the wind blow away his breaths as he lets them out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe he really had over thought this whole thing. Maybe David didn’t really want him to stay on the island. Or at least, maybe he doesn’t want that anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bell for the last return of the ferry tolls, and Patrick climbs back into it. He gives one more morose look at Kalokairi, pulling the polaroid picture of David he had saved from their picnic to the island out of his pocket, and thumbing over the smile. David had been radiant that day, backlit by the white cliffs of the island. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick doesn’t cry for long, and by the time he’s docking back at Patras, the tears have dried, though his chest still aches. He supposes that might take a while longer to heal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stevie’s trip is not a long one. David waves her off from the main dock again after a tight hug and a promise to keep in touch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s wandering back up through the centre, some of the sadness returning from his isolation on the island again, when Ronnie stops him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have a letter that arrived for you,” she says, holding out a small white envelope with his name neatly scrawled on the front. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David looks down at it with a frown, unsure of who it might be from but unwilling to open it in front of company. “Oh, thank you,” he says instead, tucking it into his pocket and looking back up at Ronnie, who seems to still have something on her mind. “Do I owe you money for it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For the letter. To pay the postman?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ronnie grins and shakes her head, brushing off the question with an easy wave of the hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’s your girlfriend?” she asks, looking around behind him as if expecting her to jump out of nowhere. David follows her gaze, looking behind himself before realising who she’s referring to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean? Stevie’s just a friend. And she’s gone home to Paris.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She isn’t staying?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ronnie is biting her lips, and for the first time every, she genuinely looks rattled by what he’s said. He frowns at her, a little concerned about her reaction but unsure whether any sympathy would be appreciated at this point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, she was only here for the week.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it’s fine. I did need to talk to you actually. I have some ideas for the motel I think you might be interested in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, you’ll be staying then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David lets out the remnants of a smile and nods. “I think so. I have big plans, and I think this might be the perfect place for them. If you don’t mind lending a hand every so often?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d be honoured.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiles again and bites his lip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll tell you what. I’m available tomorrow around midday. How about we have lunch, and you can run me through these big plans of yours for the hotel. I can give you some idea of what will be possible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds good. I’ll see you then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David wanders the rest of the way up to the hotel with a skip in his step. He throws himself down onto the unmade bed and pulls the letter out of his pocket, holding it up above him to read it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>David,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You left so abruptly that I didn’t even know you were gone! Mom and Dad says you had a little huff and have gone off to some island only leaving a note for them, but I worked out where you are by looking at your search history.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Kalokairi, David? Really? You couldn’t have picked somewhere a bit more exotic than Greece, could you? And the edge of the earth? You’re getting emotional in your old age.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Anyway, I’m leaving tomorrow to come and meet you on the island, so I hope you have somewhere prepared for me to stay. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A little beach getaway will be such a cute look for me!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>See you soon, </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Alexis ;)</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” he groans, sitting back up.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The title is from The Name of the Game!</p><p>Apologies for the continued angst, but I promise it'll start getting interesting soon. The next chapter is where the Mamma Mia 1 references start!!🏝</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Love You Gave Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>When you're gone,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>How can I even try to go on?</em>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Oh my God, David!”</p><p>David can’t bite down the smile as he rushes down the pier towards his sister. She is wobbling around in her signature high heels and denim shorts, a comically oversized sun hat perched on her head as she looks up at the cliffs of Kalokairi.</p><p>“David!” She throws her arms around him as they meet, and he closes his eyes, reveling in the familiarity of his sister, and on his island in front of him, safe, and definitely not being held hostage by somali pirates anywhere. “This place is so cute!”</p><p>“I’m so glad you’re here,” he mutters, holding her just that little bit tighter.</p><p>His smile drops as he finally opens his eyes and spots over her shoulder the seven suitcases being unloaded onto the weak wooden decking. </p><p>“What the hell is all that?” he asks. </p><p>“My luggage, obviously! I wasn’t going to come unprepared.”</p><p>“No, I mean why is there so much of it?” he asks, physically paling at the prospect of carrying so much stuff up the mountain to the hotel. </p><p>“Well, I didn’t know how long I’d be staying. One of the cases has some of your stuff that you left at home in it as well,” Alexis says, unphased by his reaction. “Everyone has been so nice and friendly, helping me carry it all around the airport, and onto the boat--”</p><p>“Okay, but there isn’t going to be anyone to flirtatiously boss around here.”</p><p>Alexis scoffs, and tries to poke David’s nose, which he by reflex backs away from with a disgusted expression. “David, you should know this by now. There is always someone for me to flirtatiously boss around, even on your cute, little, edge of the world island.”</p><p>“Right, so I guess you’ll manage to get all this up to the hotel on your own then?”</p><p>Alexis rises to the challenge with a smile, looking around them. David groans as he sees her eyes catch a young fisherman docking on the other side of the peer. He catches her watching, and looks up with a smile.</p><p>“Are you going to need help with all that?” he asks. “I have a truck if you need a ride.”</p><p>“See, David. He has a truck, and a boat.”</p><p>David winces across at the stranger, putting a hand over his eyes to block the rays of the sun. He vaguely recognises the man, likely from an evening at the cafe or similar event, but has never spoken to him before. </p><p>He hops off his boat and heads over. </p><p>“That is just like, the sweetest offer, thank you so much. My name is Alexis,” she says, gesturing to her necklace. “And this is my brother David. He’s a little shy.”</p><p>“Okay I--”</p><p>“I’m Mutt,” the man says, taking Alexis’ weak hand with a wink, and then turning to greet David. “You’re the guy from the argument, right?”</p><p>“Wow, so everybody knows about that. That’s great,” David bristles, ignoring his sister’s curious looks and sharp elbows. </p><p>“Word travels fast here, what can I say?”</p><p>“Nothing. You can say nothing.”</p><p>Mutt shrugs, and turns to the cases. “Shall we get these on the truck?”</p><p>Fortunately for David, Mutt seems more than willing to do all the heavy lifting while Alexis pawns over him, so he seeks the comfort of the truck and waits for them to finish flirting. </p><p>Unfortunately for David, they bring the flirting back with them.</p><p>It’s a long journey up to the hotel, Alexis’ giggling grating on David’s nerves as he stews in his own frustrations until finally they are home. David pushes past his sister to get out the front bench, making clear his annoyance as he elbows her in the ribs to get out. </p><p>She follows with a huff, and watches as Mutt empties the truck bed of all the cases, leaving with a promise to see them around. </p><p>David gets her set up in a downstairs room as all the upstairs ones need repairing, and she seems relatively satisfied with the hotel, although equally as disgusted as he first was with the worn down appliances and furniture. </p><p>“You know, you’re going to have to sort this place out if I’m going to stay here, David,” she muses as he sits on her bed while she unpacks her bags into the closet. He doesn’t have the heart to warn her that his own closet fell to pieces under the strain of his clothes and he is currently waiting on a new one from Ronnie. </p><p>“If you stay here? Since when were you staying here, I thought you were just visiting?”</p><p>Alexis shrugs, but won’t catch David’s eye. </p><p>“What’s happening. I thought you hated the idea of settling somewhere.”</p><p>“Well, I used to think you were the dependable sibling, and yet I come back from a trip to Monaco to find that you’ve just jetted off to the other side of the world after a squabble with Mom and Dad, and haven’t even contacted them since you left.”</p><p>“It’s not like they even noticed, our rooms are in a different wing of the house.”</p><p>“Yeah, well. They noticed, and I noticed,” she huffs, hanging some sheer beach dress onto a wooden hanger. “I noticed a lot actually.”</p><p>“It’s not like you’ve not done the same thing like a million times before.”</p><p>“It was just weird for you to do it, David. I was expecting you to be home when I got there.”</p><p>“Why? Why were you even home? There are no special holidays or anything, I would have thought you were busy somewhere.”</p><p>Alexis tenses up, and David frowns at her, going to stand and forcing her to turn around and look at him. </p><p>“What happened?”</p><p>“Um, Stavros dumped me. For Klair. So it’s not a big deal I just, it was kind of a wake-up call?”</p><p>David nods at her to go on, crossing his arms against his chest. </p><p>“Like, so, with the travelling. I was doing all these amazing things, sure. But I wasn’t doing them with anyone worth remembering. Like, I have these incredible memories, but when I look back, the faces are blurry, and I can’t remember a lot of people’s names. It just kind of makes it all feel worthless.”</p><p>“So you came home to do what? Take me with you?”</p><p>“No,” Alexis says firmly, shaking her head. “Maybe. I don’t know. I just wanted to see you.”</p><p>David smiles. “Well, you found me here. Did you tell Mom and Dad where you were going?”</p><p>“Ew, no David. I’m better than that. I did promise we’d write though, to let them know that we’re safe. Something you<em> should </em> have been doing all along.”</p><p>She coughs slightly, as if to physically move the emotion that has collected in her throat, and turns back to her luggage. </p><p>“So like, what have you been doing since you got here? Mutt mentioned you were doing something with this place, redesigning it or something?”</p><p>David wrings his hands nervously but nods, pacing the floor slightly to explain and using his fluttering hand expressions as if to physically show her his intentions. “Ronnie let me stay here free of charge, but if I want to stay, she says I have to give something back to the community.”</p><p>“So?”</p><p>“So, I want to help her fix up the hotel. Make it somewhere people want to visit. There are empty lots in the centre, if we can just get some solid tourism back then we can get the shops reopened and make some improvements around here, but we can’t do that until the hotel is up and running.”</p><p>Alexis blinks in surprise and looks around the room, as if seeing it for the first time. “That sounds like a lot of hard work, David. That’s not like you at all.”</p><p>“Yeah, well. I’d like to build something of my own for the first time ever, but people will help, some of the villagers and Ronnie. It will benefit them more than me, and then once it’s finished, I want to build a shop.”</p><p>“Like, with little bricks and--”</p><p>“No, I mean, I want to set up a business. Something of my own. The hotel will be me giving back what was owed to Ronnie, and I’ll still get a cut of the profits, but the store will be my own project. All for myself.”</p><p>Alexis looks thoughtful, and finally smiles at him. “I can see that.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“I think that’s a really cute idea, David. I think it could work. You’d look so cute in a little shop uniform, selling things like festival headwear, and feathers...” she toys with the end of her locks, zoning out somewhere.</p><p>David smiles at his sister, and an unexpected burst of fondness blooms in his chest. “Thank you. Um, so are you okay here? I said I’d go and meet Ronnie, she and a couple of contractors are coming to look at the place.”</p><p>“Sure, I should probably take a nap anyway.”</p><p>David nods one final time, backing out the room and finally towards the stone steps. He meets Ronnie on the journey down, who makes a spinning motion with her hand for him to head back upwards, her and her friends following behind. </p><p>“David, this is Roland, and Ted. They’ve both offered to help with some of the manual labour for the hotel.”</p><p>David takes in the appearances of her two acquaintances. One is a ragged man in jean shorts and a loose fitted henley hanging over his beer belly. The other, the Sunday school sort, in a light blue polo shirt and cargo shorts. </p><p>“That’s very kind of you. Um, well. I’m kind of more the aesthetic and ideas person. Ronnie here is logistics, so-- I don’t know how you want to do this?”</p><p>Ronnie smirks and shakes her head casually. “We’ll start by making a list of all the structural issues, and then you can tell us your vision. We’ll need to keep things limited for now, everyone is willing to donate whatever they can, but we don’t have limitless resources here.”</p><p>“Okay, so maybe I should go over my vision with you first, then?” David asks, smiling as Ronnie nods in agreement.</p><p>“Ooh, your <em> vision. </em>Seeing ghosts are we, Dave? I’d suggest going to the doctor, but this guy here is the closest thing we’ve got,” Roland says, hitting Ted lightly in the stomach and making the man wince uncomfortably. “And he’s a wildlife tamer!” He lets out a grating laugh which echoes against the quiet summer day. David wouldn’t be surprised to turn and see a flock of birds fleeing from the nearby trees.</p><p>Ted narrows his eyes in disagreement but still smiles. “Well, actually, I’m a researcher. There are some really interesting breeds of horsefly on this island which have been so crucial to our studies--”</p><p>“Um, are you sure you’re going to be-- qualified? To do all this? There is a lot that needs doing and I really don’t want to make it any worse than it already is.” David interrupts. </p><p>“I won’t be leaving them unaccompanied, don’t worry,” Ronnie says with an understanding look. “They’re just here for manpower.”</p><p>“We’ll get this place looking <em> hotel- </em>lly awesome by the end, don’t you worry,” Ted says, as Roland claps him on the shoulder and they both walk past him towards the building.</p><p>Ronnie laughs again at David’s horrified expression but at least looks a little understanding as she leads him to follow the others into the house. By the time they’ve caught up, Roland has already broken a door, and Alexis has sunk her claws into Ted.</p><p>David has a slight sense that this might be a mistake, but he’s in it too deep now, so he sighs and watches as Ronnie orders them to get on with their work.</p><p>The evening comes to a close at the cafe. David and Alexis take a table near the front, and David spends the whole meal trying to ignore the fact that it’s the same seat he had sat in to watch Patrick perform that one night, that feels so long ago now. </p><p>“You know, I think this island is like a super cute look for me,” Alexis says, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she takes a sip of the sickly green ‘ocean smoothie’ Twyla had placed in front of her.</p><p>David watches as his sister struggles to get the concoction up through the straw because of its thick texture, and smirks. “Yeah?”</p><p>“I don’t know. I’ve been around a lot, you know, seen a lot of islands. But I like this one.”</p><p>“Yeah, well. Don’t get too comfortable, I found it first,” David says, with no real heat.</p><p>They both look up and watch as Ted enters, and takes a seat at the bar next to Mutt. They talk for a while, and Alexis turns to David with raised eyebrows. </p><p>“I <em> really </em> like it here, David.”</p><p>“Oh my God,” David mutters, taking a long slow sip of his cider, and trying to forget the way it tasted on Patrick’s lips. On his tongue. He closes his eyes and tries to push the thoughts out of his head. </p><p>“David, I brought you a slice of a lemon cheesecake,” Twyla says, putting it down on his table with a sympathetic look. </p><p>“Oh, thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”</p><p>“Consider it a token from a friend. I heard from Ronnie that you were staying and I just wanted you to know that if you need any help at all with the new hotel, or whatever else you choose to do around here. Well, I’m happy to help.”</p><p>David tries to repress the smile and accepts the slice of cake, it is a gift from a friend after all. “Thank you, I’ll let you know.”</p><p>Twyla smiles once more, and David’s smile turns to a glare as his sister tries to take a forkful of his cake. </p><p>“Get your paws off, God!” he exclaims as he bats her fork away. “You’re like an untrained baboon.”</p><p>After dinner, David wanders with Alexis down to the beach, her constant nattering filling the air and preventing him from getting too lost in his head. </p><p>Regardless, throughout it all, the ghosts of his time with Patrick linger, hidden around corners of buildings where they used to make out when the temptation of their swimming clothes got too much to handle. On the beach where they danced together, and shared their first kiss. On the steps, where David had yelled at the one person that understood him, or at least, that was willing to try to understand him.  </p><p>Alexis seems to notice his depressed attitude, and clings to his arm in what he assumes is meant to be a supportive way, before he finally tires of socialising and begs exhaustion from the unpacking, leading them back up the many steps to the hotel.</p><p>David finds himself gazing out the window of his bedroom at the shores of Kalokairi, sending a wish out into the universe that wherever Patrick Brewer is, he’s happy, and healthy, and safe.</p><p>*** </p><p>
  <em> 1 Year Later </em>
</p><p>It takes a long time, and some actual physical labour on David’s side, for the hotel to become something worth opening. </p><p>The building is repainted, a blinding white to match the cliffs it sits in, reflecting the light and brightening the area. David commits to the seaside aesthetic even against his own interest. A blue and white colour scheme is determined both on the outer building and the decoration, emphasised by the handmade furniture that Ronnie has been working on constantly all year. </p><p>“It looks good, David,” Ronnie says with a whistle, as they wander around the property looking for replacements and things to final touches.</p><p>“You really think people will be interested in coming here?”</p><p>“With all the advertising and social media outreach that Alexis has been doing, the place will be booked out within months. And I have you to thank for all this.”</p><p>“Hmm, I wouldn’t give Alexis too much credit. I’m pretty sure all the stuff she said about the island sitting on Aphrodite’s fountain was a lie,” David grumbles, but it’s accompanied with a pleased smile nevertheless. </p><p>“Much like your insistence that we should advertise the fact that the island is on the edge of the earth,” Ronnie bites back without hesitation.</p><p>“Okay, that is based on a <em> very </em>popular myth, and is in fact the reason I’m here today. So, you have that to thank for all this.”</p><p>“Let her have Aphrodite, David. They do say that if you drink from the fountain you will find everlasting love and true happiness.”</p><p>David looks at Ronnie with confusion as she talks, and is finally met with an amused chuckle from the woman. “You don’t really think that do you?” he asks as she raises an eyebrow at him. </p><p>“Absolutely not, but it’s popular with honeymooners, and we need someone to sleep in the rooms of that hotel else this has all been for nothing.”</p><p>He huffs a sigh of relief and smiles at Ronnie. She may be prickly, but she’s been a good friend, and he’s glad to be able to give her back the hotel she was hoping for. </p><p>“I’m glad you got what you wanted. You’re going to want more staff than this though. This will do for the grand opening but afterwards, might pay to get some people in from the mainland. Maybe even a manager, someone who knows what they’re doing in running a hotel.”</p><p>“That’s solid advice, David.”</p><p>“It’s been known to happen,” he replies with a shrug.</p><p>“Do you have a suggestion for that position?”</p><p>David shakes his head sadly and thinks of Stevie, who he hasn’t spoken to in nearly a year. “I don’t think so. If anyone asks I’ll send them your way.”</p><p>Ronnie looks at him with narrowed eyes. “Well, if we’re done here,” she says, turning on her heel and going to head out of the door, but David stops her before she can leave.</p><p>“No wait, um.  I actually wanted to talk to you about something though.”</p><p>“I’m listening.”</p><p>David takes a deep breath and fiddles with his rings. “You know the empty lot next to the cafe? The one with the big empty windows and door on the front?”</p><p>“I’m familiar.”</p><p>“Well I-- I had this idea, for a store. A general store, but a very specific store. Maybe somewhere to sell local produce all in one place, since hopefully there will be more tourists around soon. And I was thinking, now that I fulfilled my promise with the hotel, that maybe that would be my next project.”</p><p>If Ronnie is surprised by the news, she doesn’t show it, and just nods slowly. </p><p>“I can’t pretend to understand what you’re talking about, but I can’t argue with your methods here, so. If you need anything for it you just let me know? I will contact Ray for you and get you a hand on that lease, and we can talk more after that.”</p><p>He smiles and nods. “Sure, I appreciate that.”</p><p>“You know where I live,” she says, with one final nod of the head.</p><p>David wanders back towards the blue stairs up to his room. Alexis had claimed the one across from his room as soon as the roof was fixed, and her head sticks out of it, waving her brother in with a desperate look. </p><p>“What?” he hisses as she slams the door behind him. “What is happening to you?”</p><p>“Shh, David. I have something to show you. Wait here.”</p><p>With that, she disappears into her ensuite, leaving David alone in the room. He sits on the end of the bed, swinging his feet backwards and forwards idly and makes loud huffing noises every so often just to make clear his annoyance. </p><p>“Ugh, shut up, David!” Alexis yells from the bathroom. “Okay, are you ready?”</p><p>“Ready for what?”</p><p>She steps out of the bathroom in a beautiful, silk, floor length gown. It has a deep v-neck which reaches almost to her stomach, and is decorated with gentle stitching of white roses around the hemlines and skimming the floor. </p><p>David gasps and stands up, already approaching her and wiggling a finger for her to twirl around so that he can fully appreciate the splendour of the dress.</p><p>“Oh my God, when did it arrive?”</p><p>“Last night,” she says, beaming with excitement. “It’s cute, right? I think it's cute.”</p><p>“It’s gorgeous, Alexis. You look incredible,” David murmurs, “Oh my God. I can’t believe you’re getting married.”</p><p>Alexis nods, pursing her lips. “I know right. It’s like, so out of my comfort zone.”</p><p>David blinks furiously as the tears begin to fall, but Alexis just pats his arm consolingly. “Did you get a response from Mom and Dad?”</p><p>“Yeah, they RSVP’d, their letters arrived last night with the dress. Dad says they will get here in time for the Bachelorette Party, but apparently Mom does not consider it an ‘event of which they should be attending’, whatever that means,” Alexis says, turning back to the mirror to look at herself. She flips her hair over her shoulder and poses, lost in her own head, as David just watches on. “You need to let me know who’s coming as your date soon though.”</p><p>David frowns. “I’m not bringing a date.”</p><p>“What do you mean you’re not bringing a date? You can’t go stag, David. Not to my wedding!”</p><p>“Who would I even bring?” David responds, with equal fire. “I’ve spent the whole year working on the hotel, there’s nobody on this island that I would want to invite.”</p><p>“There’s got to be someone, David.”</p><p>“Mm,” he rolls his eyes and tries to work out the person that will annoy Alexis the most. “Maybe I should invite Ted. You know, we have spent a lot of time together working on the hotel.”</p><p>Alexis turns and fixes him with a disgusted look. “Ew, David. Don’t do that.”</p><p>“Why? You’re marrying Mutt, why would you care?”</p><p>Alexis huffs, and turns on her heel to go and change out of her dress. </p><p>“You look great by the way,” David shouts through the door she slams.</p><p>“Thank you!” she responds, her voice laced with sarcasm. </p><p>He walks back to his room to change, intending to wander down to the beach to enjoy the rest of his day off. He slips on a white shirt, and the pink swimming shorts with teal sharks on them that Patrick had left in the cottage. Throwing a towel over his shoulder, he heads out of the hotel.</p><p>He’s humming a tune as he walks, something old and familiar, that he can’t remember the words to, but the plucking of the guitar fills him with a sense of hope.</p><p>***</p><p>Alexis spots David wandering down the stone steps towards the sea from the small window in her room, and takes the opportunity that’s offered to her. She sneaks into his room by picking the lock, a skill she learned a long time ago in Uzbekistan, and looks around with suspicion. </p><p>She hits the jackpot when she pulls open a drawer and reveals his little black diary hidden away in his bedside table, flipping through it until finally it falls to the back page. The spine of the notebook is bent so it falls easily to the backpage, revealing the amount of times David must have looked at this page.</p><p>“Now, which one to invite,” she muses, dragging her finger along the names. Ultimately, she shrugs, pulling out three different invite drafts from her room and neatly writing the invitations in her best imitation of David’s handwriting.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Stevie Budd, </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jake Long,</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Patrick Brewer, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You are cordially invited to the wedding of Alexis Rose and Mutt Schitt. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 23rd July </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The Island of Kalokairi </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I hope to see you there, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> David Rose </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you enjoyed!! The Mamma Mia storyline is finally beginning!!</p><p>The song references are S.O.S. for the title.</p><p>Thank you so much for reading! 🏝</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Here I Go Again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>Look at me now, will I ever learn?</em>
  <br/>
  <em>I don't know how, but I suddenly lose control,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>There's a fire within my soul.</em>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Patrick Brewer arrives at the docks of Patras, his singular suitcase hanging from his arm as he waits impatiently for the man at the passport office to finish explaining his most recent closet re-organisation business.</p><p>“Although, I suppose if you don’t have a closet, you won’t need me to reorganise it!” the man exclaims. </p><p>“Well, I guess not. Look--”</p><p>“You know, that gives me the most wonderful idea to start a new business! I could offer to pack people’s suitcases for them. I think this could be very popular amongst travellers, as well as those who are commonly being kicked out of their own home, like my friend Bob!”</p><p>
  <em> “Last call for Kalokairi!” </em>
</p><p>“Ray, I really need to go now, the ferry is literally just about to leave.”</p><p>“Ah of course! You should get on. Now, where did I put your passport?”</p><p>Ray rummages around for a while underneath his desk, and finally pulls out Patrick’s passport, stamping it and handing it over with a flourish.</p><p>“Have a safe journey!”</p><p>Patrick grabs it and sets off on a run down the pier, waving his arms and trying to get the attention of the people currently kicking the boat off the port.</p><p>He stumbles to a stop at the end, dropping his case and stamping his foot as the passengers from the ferry wave at him cheerfully. “Fuck, fuck!” he exclaims, spinning in a frustrated circle and pulling his hands through his hair in annoyance, only to remember it no longer holds the gentle beach curls from before, therefore offering him little to hold on to. </p><p>“Wait! Fuck, shit-- stop!” a voice comes behind him, and he turns to watch as a small brunette woman in a loose plaid shirt and jeans runs at break-neck speed towards him. She stops just short of pushing him into the water and puts her hands on her knees, bent double to catch her breath. “For fuck’s sake. You couldn’t have got them to stop for me could you?” she growls at Patrick.</p><p>“If I could have I would have been more concerned about getting myself on that ferry, not waiting for someone who was clearly late,” Patrick returns with equal fire, holding a hand over his eyes to try and control his frustration.</p><p>“Um, excuse me, didn’t you <em> just </em>tell me you also missed the ferry.”</p><p>“Well, yeah, because the guy at the passport desk wouldn’t let me leave!” Patrick exclaims, feeling his annoyance rising inside him.</p><p>The woman snorts and nods understandingly. “You’re too polite, that’s the issue. I’m Stevie by the way.”</p><p>“Patrick. When’s the next boat to Kalokairi?” Patrick asks, ignoring her in favour of squinting at a sign in the corner, all written in Greek. “I really need to get there today.”</p><p>“Do you understand Greek?”</p><p>“Clearly not, otherwise I wouldn’t be staring at this sign.”</p><p>Stevie makes a shocked but impressed face at Patrick’s rudeness, but he ignores her, choosing instead to turn back and stare at the words on the sign, willing the salmon coloured chalk on the board to make sense.</p><p>“Monday,” someone shouts. Both Patrick and Stevie turn around on their heels to face a very attractive, and very shirtless man, standing proudly on the hull of the boat behind them. “Did you say you were going to Kalokairi?”</p><p>Patrick nods silently, and the man gestures for them to come closer. </p><p>“Hop on board, I was just heading there myself.”</p><p>Stevie looks at him a moment, her eyebrows furrowed, before shrugging, and gesturing for him to lead the way. He does, but only out of desperation, climbing carefully up onto the boat and placing his luggage down in the open cabin. </p><p>“Thank you for doing this,” Stevie says as she drops her own bags next to Patrick’s. “I really would have been in trouble if I’d missed this wedding.”</p><p>Jake holds out his own invitation between his fingers as he pulls a henley on over his head, the fabric stretching across his wide shoulders. “Bride or groom?”</p><p>“Bride, but I’ve actually never met her,” Stevie says, “I was invited by her family. You?” she asks, turning to Patrick.</p><p>“The same,” he says, waving his own letter around before tucking it safely back into his pocket. He’d spent an embarrassing amount of time examining the details of David’s handwriting; how it differed to what he remembered, and how it felt to see his name spelt out in letters in front of him. He’d almost thrown the letter out, convinced it was a hoax, or some sort of fever dream, but of course he’d come. He’d always go back if he thought David wanted him to. </p><p>He thinks back to his excited and erratic packing on receiving the letter, forwarded from his parents address just a few days before. He probably should have turned the invite down, and given his job more notice, but in the moment nothing mattered other than getting on the plane, and getting to David. </p><p>“We’d better get going then,” Jake says, pulling Patrick out of his thoughts.</p><p>Jake is a machine on the boat, rushing around and flexing his muscles as they set sail towards Kalokairi. Patrick and Stevie take a seat and watch the show, sharing an amused but appreciative glance as he stretches across them, tugging at ropes and tying knots with dexterous fingers.</p><p>Jake finally finishes whatever he was doing and heads to join them, breaking open a bottle of red wine as he approaches. </p><p>“Got some vino here if I can tempt you,” he says, holding out the bottle. </p><p>Stevie takes it without hesitating but Patrick is more cautious. </p><p>“Want any?” she asks, as she swallows her mouthful. </p><p>“Um, sure. Thanks.”</p><p>“You know, I’ve got to say. You two would make a beautiful couple,” Jake says, taking the bottle back from Patrick and immediately taking a swig.</p><p>“Oh, we’re not--”</p><p>“--that’s not.”</p><p>“Definitely not.”</p><p>They both flounder for an explanation, a sight that Jake seems to enjoy, as he nods and smiles in their direction. “Have you ever been to Kalokairi before?”</p><p>“Once, I went to visit a friend there. The same friend that invited me to this wedding, actually,” Stevie replies, holding out her invitation again and looking at it closely. Patrick tries to lean over and catch sight of who invited her but she tucks it safely back away before he gets the chance. “I haven’t seen him for a while, so I was surprised to get the letter. I guess he wanted to reconnect.”</p><p>“I stayed there for awhile last year. Um, but I haven’t been back since. I didn’t really know if I would be welcome back, until I got the invitation.”</p><p>Stevie is staring at him with a curious expression, which makes Patrick uncomfortable, so he looks away. Fortunately, Jake is more than willing to fill the next few hours of would-be silence with stories of his adventures.</p><p>“The sand in Croatia is so soft, you can use it as a bed,” he muses, casually steering the metal wheel as Patrick and Stevie look ahead at the waves.</p><p>“I can’t imagine sleeping on the sand, too many crabs,” Stevie responds, as she ties her hair up in a ponytail where it has started to become damp with sweat. </p><p>“Oh, there was no sleeping done that night,” Jake responds. “It was transcendent, you’d love it there. You’d fit right in amongst the models and beautiful strangers I spent my time with there.”</p><p>“Well,” Patrick chokes, laughing as Stevie elbows him repeatedly in the side, an action so reminiscent of David’s excitement that he has to pause and take another look at her. “Um, is there anything we can do to help?”</p><p>“Just sit there and look pretty,” Jake says with a wink. Patrick feels a blush rising on his cheeks and tries to ignore Stevie’s knowing look. </p><p>Despite his insistence, they do try to lend a hand, holding things steady and passing things to Jake, but in general it is his maintenance that allows them to pull up to Kalokairi that afternoon.</p><p>They dock at the same pier Patrick had left from a year before. The cliffs of Kalokairi shine at them from above, and all three seem to take a moment just to absorb the sight of the island; its rustling trees and glittering sand. </p><p>“It’s been a while since I stopped here,” Jake muses, and Patrick finds himself nodding along silently. “Perhaps this is what it means to gain a different perspective of the island.”</p><p>They unpack and head up the hill to the square in silence, Patrick looking around himself all the while in awe of how familiar his surroundings are, and yet also how different. He can still see David’s messy hair and bright smile around every corner; pictures running down the dusty street, racing towards the ocean. David laughed all the way, desperate and breathless and looking back at Patrick, his eyes wide with the excitement of the chase. But the streets are cleaner now, more put together, and he looks with interest at the SOLD sign in the vacant lot. </p><p>It seems he’s missed a lot.</p><p>“Hi, are you wedding guests?” a pretty blonde woman says, approaching them from out of the cafe and rushing towards them. Her heels click on the cobbled street as she strides over, and Patrick has half the mind to back away from her advance.</p><p>“Um, yes. I’m Stevie, this is Jake and Patrick. We got invitations to a wedding?”</p><p>Her eyes widen in response to this, and she looks between them with something like glee written on her face. “Oh my gosh, okay. Hi, I’m Alexis Rose, you must be David’s guests. Um, come with me.”</p><p>“David’s--”</p><p>The three of them look at each other suspiciously, with new eyes as they learn their connection to David. </p><p>“Um. Do you mind if we get shown to our rooms before we see David? I feel like we could do with a freshen up,” Patrick says, looking down at his ruffled clothes and feeling his nerves picking up at the thought of being so close to the man he hasn’t seen in a year. </p><p>“Of course! Your rooms, hm,” Alexis stops, and frowns for a moment, clearly trying to think something through before spinning around and leading them away from the hotel. </p><p>“Where are we--”</p><p>“The hotel has been booked out, so I’m taking you to some alternative accommodation that has already been arranged.”</p><p>Patrick frowns, pausing to look contemplatively up the hill towards the hotel, before Stevie pulls him by the arm to follow Alexis. They stop outside an old brick building, worn down and degraded, and Alexis stands outside the door, waving them all in impatiently and peering around as if on look-out for something. </p><p>“Um, when are we going to see David?” Patrick asks as they are ushered up the stairs into a small attic room with three single mattresses laid out on the floor. </p><p>“Bigger question, when are we going to see our rooms?” Stevie adds. </p><p>Jake just laughs, throwing himself down onto the middle mattress and sticking an arm behind his head. “I don’t want to scare you, but I think this<em> is </em> our room.”</p><p>“What--”</p><p>When they spin around, Alexis is pulling a guilty face at them, one hand limp in front of her as she waves it around. “Okay, so here’s the thing. David perhaps, <em> may </em>be, didn’t have a date to his own sister’s wedding. So, I may have been the one to send out those letters.”</p><p>She winces as she finishes, and looks at them for a reaction. The three of them all freeze, looking at each other in shock as they register the news.</p><p>“Oh my God,” Stevie says, laughing lightly as she sits down on one of the spare mattresses. “That makes so much more sense.”</p><p>“Oh my--” Patrick follows her, sitting on the only one left with a broken sigh. “I need to get off this island.”</p><p>“What--”</p><p>“David doesn’t want me here, we didn’t-- He will not be happy to see me, at all. I really shouldn’t be here.”</p><p>Stevie seems to finally work out what she’s been wondering the entire time they have been together, she gasps, and clicks her fingers at him. “You’re him, aren’t you! You’re the mysterious heartbreaker that David wouldn’t tell me the name of.”</p><p>“How do you--?”</p><p>“Do you own a motorbike?”</p><p>Something squeezes inside Patrick’s chest as he nods piteously. “Or at least, I did. I don’t know what happened to it when I left,” he says with a mourning sigh.</p><p>“You don’t look like the type to ride a motorbike,” Stevie muses, looking at his jeans and blue button up combination with a frown.</p><p>“Yeah, well. Some things changed when I left.”</p><p>Alexis is clearly getting impatient, swirling around on her heel and clicking her tongue. “Okay, so are we all settled here?”</p><p>“Mm, nope. I think we should probably leave. Jake?”</p><p>Jake whistles and shakes his head. “I’m not going anywhere. I have an invitation to a wedding, and the most interesting circumstances to bring me back to my hometown. I’m not going anywhere.”</p><p>Stevie laughs and moves to sit next to Patrick on what has been designated as his bed, gripping his arm as he buries his head in his hands. “You might as well at least try, right? What’s the worse that can happen?”</p><p>“Try? David is not going to even want to look at me when he knows I’m here. He thinks I left to go and get married!”</p><p>“Didn’t you?” Stevie asks with a scathing look. </p><p>“No! I--”</p><p>“Okay, so I really have to go. This sounds like a conversation you should have had with David before you accepted the invite,” Patrick opens his mouth to argue but she waves him off. “Please don’t leave, okay? I’m trying to do a nice thing here,” Alexis says as she retreats back down the stairs, swaying on her heels as she does so. </p><p>“You got it,” Jake says with a grin. He seems to be enjoying the situation far too much.</p><p>Alexis smiles one final time, staring at Patrick with a far away look, before shaking herself free of her own thoughts and skipping away, the hatch slamming shut as she leaves. </p><p>***</p><p>“This is a solid plan, David,” Ronnie muses as she reads over the last of his notes for his new store. “I think you’ve really got something here. Now that the interior has been painted and organised all you need to do is cover stock. I’ll get all the necessary forms prepared for you to sign and then you’ll be good to go.”</p><p>She drags her eyes down his list one final time. It includes stock ideas from local vendors; herself included, as well as food products, the owners of the orange orchard on the East of the island, and the cider bottlers.</p><p>David flushes under the praise and nods, “Thank you Ronnie.”</p><p>“You know, have you spoken to Heather Warner about her goat cheese? I’m sure she’d be happy to sign on with you, she travels to the mainland a lot at the moment, it would do good for her business to be able to sell more here as well.”</p><p>“I have not.”</p><p>“Well, if you wanted to go and talk to her then head to the old goat house. She should be back from her trip to the mainland by now and it’d be good to hear her perspective.”</p><p>“I will do that now. Thank you again for looking over it with me,” David says, collecting his notes and shoving them all into his bag. He tugs at his <a href="https://www.thedoublef.com/uk_en/silk-printed-shirt-dolce-gabbana-g5gx2tfi1kk-g-dolce-hn74c/">Dolce &amp; Gabbana shirt</a> nervously as he does so, hesitating patiently for Ronnie’s closing remarks. </p><p>“You’ve done a lot for this island, David Rose. You can call in as many favours as you need to get this store up and running.”</p><p>David screws up his mouth in an attempt to hide the grin that automatically grows from that comment. “I’ll go and talk to Heather now. Thanks again.”</p><p>Ronnie nods at him and follows him out from the cafe, heading across the street to her woodshop with a final casual wave as he wanders around the corner. He reaches the old barn and frowns, listening out for the sound of movement around the back where Heather usually works. When he doesn’t find her, he pokes his head inside the building, and hears creaking on the floor above.</p><p>“Heather?” he calls, climbing the stairs cautiously. </p><p>Inside the attic, Stevie freezes and puts an arm out to grab at Patrick whose eyes are wide and heart rate has sped up. She nods towards the window which they both approach hesitantly, peering out into the street but seeing nothing.</p><p>“Heather, do you have a sec?”</p><p>David pushes at the hatch to the upstairs barn room only to be stopped by a weight on top of the door. He peeks through the small gap and spots the strangely familiar muscled back of a man in a navy blue henley, blocking the view of the other inhabitants of the room. </p><p>“Jake?” he wonders to himself, letting the trap door fall closed above him and turning around on the stairs. </p><p>He rounds the outside of the barn over to the ladder on the side, his curiosity getting the better of him as he searches for another vantage point into the barn. He climbs slowly and carefully, unwilling to get barn dust on his expensive shirt, and finally reaches the top and tip toes his way across to the hatch in the centre of the roof.</p><p>Patrick and Stevie look up as something creaks above them.</p><p>David reaches the small door on the roof and slips it open, peering in slowly so as not to--</p><p>
  <em> Baa! </em>
</p><p>The goat makes him startle. He jumps and swings around and in doing so falls backwards into the gap in the ceiling, straight down to land on his back on some sort of springy mattress. </p><p>Three figures appear in his vision, and David takes a moment to fully register them all. </p><p>“Hello handsome. That was quite an entrance.”</p><p>“Jake,” he stutters, writhing around on the bed in surprise as he tries to push himself up into an upright position.</p><p>“Not the most elegant thing you’ve ever done but far from the worst,” Stevie intervenes. David startles and looks at her with a smile.</p><p>“I can’t believe you’re here,” he says, looking up at her with a softened expression. </p><p>“Did you need me to pinch you?” she offers, reaching out a hand which he kicks away with a laugh, only to freeze, as his eyes finally register the third figure standing over him.</p><p>David’s heart almost jumps out of his chest as he takes in the sight of Patrick Brewer, standing in front of him again, so different from the man David remembers, and yet all the same. He’s in a pair of loose blue jeans and a button-up shirt. He’s rubbing his hands against the side of his thighs as if nervous, and is looking down at David with a hesitant expression.</p><p>“Patrick--”</p><p>“I’m surprised you recognise me. I know I’ve changed a lot since last year,” he says, self-deprecatingly, now rubbing the back of his head awkwardly; a habit David is very used to.</p><p>“What are you doing here? You left!” David finally gets into a sitting position and accepts Jake’s outstretched hand ready to pull him upwards until he’s standing at the foot of the bed, only a step away from those soft brown eyes and tentative smile.</p><p>Patrick shrugs, his eyes not leaving David’s face, drinking in the sight of him like a parched man. “I came back.”</p><p>“Why would you do that-- Why, why would you not come and find me when you arrived?”</p><p>Patrick smiles a little, and shrugs again. “I was going to, but it turns out I didn’t need to since less than an hour after I arrived you’ve actually fallen straight into my bed.”</p><p>David blushes and looks down at the offending piece of furniture with a glare. </p><p>“You didn’t-- You shouldn’t have-- Why now? Why are you all here?” he asks, ignoring Patrick’s teasing, which has never failed to make him hot under the collar and instead turning to glare at the three of them together.</p><p>David directs the question at Stevie, who looks a bit flustered by the attention.</p><p>“Well, um-- We missed the ferry, so Jake gave us a lift on his boat,” she looks at the other men. “I came to visit you, actually, but then I heard that there was a wedding taking place, so there was no room in the hotel.”</p><p>“On a visit home.” Jake says, as David turns to him. “Taking a break from adventuring to visit the island.”</p><p>“And you? Why are you here?” He asks, looking back at Patrick. </p><p>“I just wanted to see-- the island,” he mutters, looking at his feet. “You know what it means to me.”</p><p>“Um,” David is wincing, his thoughts rushing through his head at a mile and minute as he wrings his hands, tugging harshly at the silver rings on his right hand as if that will solve anything. “You shouldn’t be here. My-- sister, she’s getting married, and it’s the grand opening of the hotel, and, I have a lot to do, so.”</p><p>“We’re pretty comfortable here, David. You have nothing to worry about,” Jake says, turning to walk away and reclining back along his bed. </p><p>“You can’t stay in the old goat house!” David exclaims, getting more and more agitated by the second. </p><p>“Who says?” Jake asks, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve known Heather Warner far longer than you, and believe me, she’ll be fine with it. I think she’d find it pretty funny actually,” they lose Jake to his reminiscing and the remaining present people in the room turn to look at each other.</p><p>David has half a mind to argue with him, but all he can think about is escaping the room so that he can process the spinning of his brain. “So, you’re just going to stay then. That’s fine. Um, but I should-- go.”</p><p>On moving back towards the exit, his shoulder brushes Patrick’s, and he pauses. Patrick seems to be about to say something but at the last moment his mouth snaps shut and he looks back down towards the floor. </p><p>He moves the chair from the corner and tries to get back out of the hole in the floor, only to realise he’s standing on the hatch. When he finally pulls it open, he pauses, his head just sticking through the gap and risks one final look at Patrick, who is now staring at him with a broken expression. </p><p>David says nothing, rushing down the stairs and out of the goat house. He hears Stevie shouting at him to stop, but ignores her, and the eyes of various villagers, as he rushes into the empty lot of the store and locks himself in the toilet. </p><p>“David!” The sound of his sister’s voice accompanied by a banging on the door makes him jump where he is sitting on the lid of the toilet, tears running down his face. </p><p>Alexis’ voice is joined by Stevie’s, and they both bang on the door furiously as David scrubs at his face. </p><p>“David, if you don’t come out of there I’m coming in. I know how to pick a lock, don’t test me!” Alexis yells. She’s not wrong, so he unlocks the door and opens it, stepping out shamefully into the arms of Stevie. He relaxes into the hug, feeling her strong grip around his waist and takes a deep breath. </p><p>“What’s happening, why are you all here?” he asks into her hair. She smells of coconut and vanilla and it’s so familiar that it almost brings him to tears again. “How does this happen, the three people I hooked up with last summer all turning up in one place at the same time?”</p><p>“You slept with Jake?” she asks, with an impressed look.</p><p>“Not the point, Stevie! How do you all know each other?”</p><p>“We don’t know each other, we met at the dock.” she rubs a soothing hand down his back. “You might want to ask your sister about why we’re all here though.”</p><p>David immediately pulls back from the embrace and locks eyes with Alexis, who pulls a guilty face. “What did you do?”</p><p>“I-- You didn’t have a date for my <em> wedding </em>, David! I didn’t know which one of the contacts in your little diary you would want so I invited them all!”</p><p>“I didn’t want a date! I was perfectly happy <em> without </em> a date, I told you that! I have so many things to do right now, with the hotel opening, and preparations for your wedding, and I’m trying to set up a store! I can’t deal with this right now!”</p><p>“Well, I was trying to do you a favour!”</p><p>“By snooping in my journal?”</p><p>“You know, this whole thing could have been avoided if you’d just invited me, David,” Stevie butts in, and suddenly he’s no longer grateful for her presence. </p><p>“Okay, you can shut your face, you’re on thin ice right now.”</p><p>“It’s not that big a deal, David. Just pick one to be your date, and then tell the other two they’re surplus, job done!” Alexis suggests. She winces as Stevie punches her in the arm. “I mean, Stevie is here now so you should probably just go with her.”</p><p>“Oh my God. Patrick is in the old goat house,” David remembers. “He’s in the goat house. What do I do?” The tears come thick and fast as he pictures Patrick’s face, his lovely curly hair cut off, dressed in his business attire. Did he have a wedding ring on his finger? David can’t remember, but that’s a detail he will likely be focusing on for the next few hours. </p><p>The two women blink at each other, before Stevie huffs and takes over. “It’s going to be okay, David. I will keep them distracted, so that you can focus on the wedding, and the store, and everything else. In a couple of days, Jake will be taking us back on his boat and this will all be over.”</p><p>This makes David cry harder, and Stevie winces, patting his shoulder sympathetically. </p><p>“Um, David? Not to step on your moment, but Mom and Dad will be arriving like, any moment.”</p><p>“Oh my God,” David mutters, covering his face with his hands again. His eyes are still damp, and his head is starting to throb from the crying, but he lets Alexis lead him back into the small restroom. She splashes his face with water and sends Stevie to the cafe to fetch a drink which she does, forcing David to down the Sex on the Beach with only minimal teasing. </p><p>“There we go, better?”</p><p>“A little,” he sniffs.</p><p>“It’ll have to do because we need to go and meet Mom and Dad. Stevie, I assume you have control of the two surplus dates?”</p><p>“We’re not calling them that, but yes. I will go and keep an eye on Jake and Patrick.”</p><p>David takes a deep breath, and nods. “Okay, lets go.”</p><p>Alexis and David stand at the end of the large pier on the South of the island and watch the pleasure boat pull up to dock. Their father steps off first, clad as usual in his high-end navy suit and pocket square, followed by their mother, a long, black, cape-like dress covering her.</p><p>Alexis lets out a little squeal and runs towards them, falling into a hug with her Dad. David approaches at a much more subdued speed. </p><p>“There she is, the bride to be! You look positively radiant, my dear. Island life has done such wonderful things to your complex-ion!” Moira croons, cupping her daughter’s face and shaking it slightly in an affectionate move.</p><p>“Hi,” David says as he approaches. “Um, it’s good to see you.”</p><p>“Oh, David.”</p><p>His parents both swoop in and pull David into a tight hug, which he accepts, realising for the first time how much he had missed his parents while away. </p><p>“It’s such a relief to see you looking so well, son.”</p><p>“Yeah, well. Um. We have a room prepared at the hotel for you, Mutt should be along to pick us up anytime now.”</p><p>David catches a strange expression on his sister’s face, and frowns at her, silently asking for an explanation. </p><p>“<em> Or, </em>um, actually. Maybe you’d enjoy a walk through the town. It’s not too far?”</p><p>“Whatever you suggest, son. We might need a hand with your mother’s luggage though, her wedding outfit alone took up three cases.”</p><p>“Options, John! They’re very important,” Moira exclaims from where she is still focusing her attention on her daughter.</p><p>They get the luggage and their parents to the town before they are forced to stop. Moira had steadfastly refused to carry anything, and David’s back is beginning to ache under the strain of her wedding suitcases alone. </p><p>“Hey, do you need a hand?” a voice calls from behind them. </p><p>David turns to see Ted approaching, in his usual tight navy t-shirt and cargo shorts. Alexis steadfastly refuses to look at him, so David nods and smiles. </p><p>“That would be great, thank you, Ted.”</p><p>“Who is this young paramour of David’s?” he can hear Moira whispering to Alexis from the back of the group as they finally hit the stone steps to the hotel. </p><p>“Oh he’s-- Um, he’s a friend.”</p><p>“A very attractive, charming friend. Am I wrong in hoping that it won’t be long until David will be ringing wedding bells of his own?”</p><p>“Unfortunately, no. I don’t think so.”</p><p>David turns just in time to see a flash of hurt cross Alexis’ face, and throws her what he hopes is a sympathetic look, though the sweat running down his forehead from carrying the luggage may not get that message across as well as he’d hoped. </p><p>They finally deposit the heaps of luggage onto the floor of the last remaining hotel room. It’s the largest, and most decadent of them all, on the other side of the hotel to David and Alexis for posterity reasons. The Roses don’t seem disappointed by the room, and instead look at their children with pride. </p><p>“I can’t believe you helped build all this, David.”</p><p>“Well I, I was just paying back a debt to the community. I just designed and helped oversee the project, but Ronnie and Ted did all the hard work.”</p><p>“Don’t undersell yourself, bud. This hotel would still be a wreck if you hadn’t chipped in.”</p><p>David smiles at Ted, who makes his leave, and turns back to his sister who is frowning into space. </p><p>“Well, we’ll leave you to get situated. We have a lot of things to get organised for tomorrow night,” David says, leading her to the door by the arm. “But we will see you for dinner tonight at the cafe?”</p><p>“We wouldn’t miss it.”</p><p>Alexis disappears as soon as they are out of their parents room. David frowns at her retreating figure, but lets her go. He has enough problems of his own to sort out.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm so glad to get to the actual Mamma Mia! part of the story!! I really hope people enjoy this one this was one of my favourite chapters to write so I'd love to hear your thoughts!!</p><p>The song references are just Mamma Mia from the title, but the plot and a lot of the dialogue is taken from the movie.</p><p>Thank you for reading! 🏝</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. You've Come To Shake My Hand</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>The game is on again,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>A lover or a friend?</em>
  <br/>
  <em>A big thing or a small?</em>
  <br/>
  <em>The winner takes it all.</em>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Alexis is reclusive from that point on and, unwilling to sink into a pit of despair focused on his three summer flings all returning to be his date to a wedding, David focuses on making himself useful. He heads down to the docks, where a party of volunteers are setting up the beach ready for the wedded couple to have their photoshoots after the ceremony. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The small fishing boats bob against the waves bumping against the wooden pier in rhythmic time. David stands to one side and directs the placement of white lilies and rustic decorations against the wooden harbour. In amongst the crowd of helpers, he spots the rippled bare chest of a familiar figure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David turns away from Jake and focuses on his own decorations, scrunching up his face and hoping against hope that he won’t notice--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Need a hand with that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jake reaches up and grabs the side of the boat, his bare chest cutting straight into David’s eyeline as he secures a fasten David had been fiddling with for the past ten minutes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You might remember that my knot tying skills are pretty impressive,” he murmurs. David looks away as he does so, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks as Jake shows off next to him. “There, all secure for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” David mutters, turning to grab the next piece out of the box. “Can I help you with something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, can you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jake,” David huffs helplessly, but he can’t prevent the smile that rises on his face as he takes in the sight. He has his hands on his hips, his plaid shirt completely unbuttoned to display his tanned chest to the world. “I’m trying to get things sorted for Alexis’ wedding.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that, and I also seem to remember you being very impressed with my talent at multitasking,” Jake lightly socks David’s jaw, just to tip his head upwards slightly so that their gazes are locked. “What happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you talking about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jake hums non-committedly and shrugs. “You know, this was kind of a weird situation for me to find myself. There I am, thinking what we had was special, only to be invited back to discover that you didn’t just have a summer romance with me, but with two other people as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, David is worried that Jake is being serious, but the cocky grin on his face says otherwise. He lets his shoulders drop the tension and shakes his head listlessly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you call what we did romantic?” he asks with a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What else would you call it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David ponders it for a moment, tying another flower to the structure of a boat as he does so, before turning back to give his full attention to the other man. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Two friends, exploring each other’s bodies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jake’s eyebrow raises, and he looks vaguely impressed. “Well, I’m an open minded guy, David. You know how much I like to explore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leans in, and David widens his eyes, turning his head at the last moment so that Jake’s kiss lands on his cheek rather than its intended target of his lips. Jake doesn’t seem put off however, and just smiles that easy going smile and turns back to the decorating work. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your friend is feisty,” Jake says after a while of quiet working. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which friend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stevie.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my God. Do you ever take a break?” David rolls his eyes and laughs at Jake’s untameable enthusiasm, but just as he’s about to hang another flower to the boat, he hears the clatter of shoes running down the wooden pier. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“David!” Alexis yells, running up to him. “I really need to talk to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean-- Alexis!” he yells after her as she turns on her heel and runs back in the direction she had come from. David shoves the flowers in his hands at Jake, who takes them clumsily and watches David rush off behind his sister. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He runs down the pier with his arms awkwardly out behind him, dodging around helpers and villagers until he hits the beach. The running becomes more staggering as his feet sink into the soft sand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alexis, wait!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He follows her off the beach, tripping over rogue branches on the journey until finally they come to a stop on a little section of path, in the shade of the treeline. The rushing in David’s ears matches the sound of the shore as he bends over and catches his breath, sweating through his silk shirt embarrassingly and already mourning the ruined fabric.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s happening?” David asks, panting pathetically with his hands on his knees just below the line of his black swimming shorts. “Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, I don’t know what I’m doing. Mutt came and talked to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, did he apologise for not coming to pick us up from the dock?” David asks, still holding onto that little annoyance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alexis ignores him and carries on. “He wants to leave here. He wants to go travelling, wants to see the world. He wants to take a boat out south and just keep sailing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David frowns. “And? Isn’t that a good thing? You love travelling, you’ve spent most of your life doing it, and at least this way you’ll be doing it with someone memorable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He catches his breath finally, and props himself up against some low hanging branches across the path from her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” she mumbles, and David finally notices the thickness in her voice, and the tears come thick and fast down her face. “I don’t know what I want anymore, I don’t want to be on my own. But I-- I like it here. If I leave here with him then what’s going to happen? I’m just going to sail off the edge of the earth and then I’ll be all on my own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you think you’re on your own? Your whole family is here to celebrate your wedding, you’re getting married!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mutt doesn’t even want to get married!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David freezes, “What do you mean? He proposed to you, of course he does!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why is he so desperate to run away? Why have I barely spoken to him, we never talk. I think maybe we were just so obsessed with lusting after each other that we weren’t seeing what was right in front of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, it’s a little late to be having these thoughts, Alexis!” David exclaims. “Maybe he’s just overwhelmed. People do that when they’re overwhelmed, they run away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like Patrick did?” Alexis asks, biting her lip and looking at David like she genuinely wants to be comforted. At the first mention of Patrick’s name, however, he tenses up. His face goes stony and he crosses his arms against his chest as if to physically defend himself from the conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This isn’t about-- Patrick,” he mutters. “That’s a completely different situation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One that you won’t tell me about!” Alexis exclaims, stomping her foot in frustration.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David sighs, and tampers down his frustration. “This isn’t getting us anywhere. What is it that you need me to do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alexis takes a deep breath, and David watches with surprise and a little respect as she wipes her own tears and pulls herself together. “I just-- I need you to back me with whatever decision I end up making.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I think-- I think I need a hug.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I think Mom and Dad--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“David! Can you please give me a hug?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David sighs and rolls his eyes, but his affection is clear as he opens his arms up, and Alexis steps into them. She rests her head against his shoulder, nestling in closer even despite the way parts of his shirt are sticking to his sweaty skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really need to start dressing for the beach, David. This shirt is going to stink all day now,” Alexis mumbles into their hug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David pulls back, fury evident on his face as he tugs at the bottom of the shirt, airing it out slightly. “Okay, who literally just made me run up a mountain?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s ridiculous, but somehow it gets Alexis to smile again. She pushes her hair behind her ears and shakes herself as if to clear herself of negative emotions, before looking back to David with a set expression. “Will you apologise to Mom and Dad for me? I won’t be available for dinner tonight. I need to go and find my fiance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. Whatever you need.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David sighs as he watches her head back towards the hotel, and turns back towards the town square. He’s almost at the cafe when he physically runs into Ted. He looks hurried, and stressed, and barely seems to register David’s presence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay?” David asks, dipping his head to try and get his attention. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, what, me? A-okay, absolutely great-- Look, have you seen Alexis anywhere?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She was just about to head back to the hotel. Why, what’s happening?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I might have said something I shouldn’t have.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David screws up his mouth. His own worries; Patrick, the hotel, the store, all swirl around his head, but he shakes himself free of them and gestures towards the cafe door. “Looks like you could do with a drink, maybe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ted nods gratefully and follows David in to find a table in the corner. They order, and David takes a long sip at his mojito, thankful for the cool liquid on the hot day, and turns to face Ted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, I guess, maybe you want to talk about it?” he says, unsure of how to proceed in this conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I might have crossed a line with Alexis,” Ted blurts out immediately, seeming relieved to get it out of his system.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, um. What did you say?” David asks stiffly, looking around uncomfortably and already regretting his offer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told her that she didn’t have to marry Mutt, if that wasn’t what she wanted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ooh, yeah. That’ll do it. Um, what were you hoping would come from that conversation?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ted makes a face like a stressed duck, and David just watches him flail with widened eyes. “I don’t know! It was just, she’s been all miserable ever since he proposed, and then she came to me and told me she didn’t want to leave the island but Mutt does, and so I just-- I told her she had other options.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And that those other options might be-- me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David gapes at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, I know. I just, I didn’t know what else to say.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Right. Um--” David trails off, thinking hard. “Look, the thing with Alexis, is that you have to let her make her own decisions. She knows all the options now, and she will make her own choice, and at this point you’re just going to have to accept that whatever she chooses, whether it’s you, or Mutt, or neither, that she knows what’s best for her, and she is making the right decision.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, are you going to be okay?” David asks, as Ted looks at his hands, pressed against the surface of the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, of course. I just need to give her space. Look, thank you David. And hey, I hope it works out with you and Stevie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that’s not-- Okay,” David mutters, as they stand up and Ted leans over to give him an awkward bro hug, hitting his back casually before pulling away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David looks at the time and decides that he has plenty of time to get some unstocking done before dinner with his parents. He exits the cafe and heads straight next door, where cardboard boxes have begun to line the surfaces of the store, filled with products from vendors that he had already begun to sign on with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bell over the door rings again, and David sticks his head out from behind a pile of boxes. “I’m not selling anything yet, Roland. I already told you--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not here to buy anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David snaps his gaze up in surprise. “Patrick--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick enters the store, still in the jeans and button-up from before, his hands dug deep into his pockets as if to control them. It’s a habit he never used to have, but David notices he seems to do it a lot now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This place is impressive, David.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” David replies, his voice curt as he draws his focus back to the sketch books he had been organising. “What are you doing here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just taking a look around the island. I was curious, and I saw you through the windows.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>here </span>
  </em>
  <span>here, I mean what are you doing on this island?” David repeats, waving his hands around to gesture to the entire area. Patrick follows the gesture with interest, his eyes locking in on the silver rings on David’s right hand, before he tucks them back out of view.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick winces and looks away. “I thought maybe-- I got a letter with your name on it, and I thought you might want me here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not that I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>you here, I just-- I don’t understand why you would come just because of that. You have a life, a family to take care of. I thought the whole spontaneous thing was just for the summer but apparently you’ll drop everything at the first invitation to a wedding of a woman you’ve never met?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick frowns, and opens his mouth to speak, but David bulldozes right on, ignoring his gaping expression and focusing on keeping his own voice steady. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, it’s not like-- You were only here for a couple of weeks, and I didn’t. I shouldn’t have expected anything of you. Even though you did say you would come back, and then you didn’t. So. Whatever, it’s ancient history.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“David I was always going to--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You cut your hair,” he interrupts again, looking at him with a critical eye. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick reaches up and runs his hand across the short brown hair, looking miserable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got a job as a business consultant. I didn’t think people would trust me if I looked all scruffy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You never looked scruffy. You always looked--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick raises his eyebrow. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I don’t look like myself anymore?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David pauses, before shaking his head. “No, or at least... Not like the person I thought you were. You’re wearing Levi’s, and I assume that shirt is from a department store? It’s not exactly the gaudy colours you were wearing when you were here. I bet you blend in everywhere else, but you stand out here, dressed like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You hated my clothes. I seem to remember a particular disgust you had for a pair of swimming trunks--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With sharks on, yes. Well, I guess I might have become a little bit fond of your clothes in the end. You look very respectable now, though. I’m sure it helps-- With your career.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick shrugs, seeming disappointed. “I didn’t know you were going to set up a store, or fix the hotel for that matter. If you’d told me your plans I could have helped you with them. I mean, I’m good with numbers. We could have done it together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David frowns, and shrugs. “I didn’t really get the chance to tell you. And anyway, I didn’t need the help. Everything I’ve done here has been done all on my own and I’m proud of that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can’t read the expression on Patrick’s face when he looks up. He looks distressed, as if David had just revealed something heartbreaking, and his gaze runs up and down David’s body as if searching for damage of some sort. David feels hot under the attention, and tries to distract himself from thoughts of all the other times he’s seen that wanting, protective look on Patrick’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“David I never meant to leave you on your own, I--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Salutations, my brethren!” Moira appears at the door and throws her arms out. She always did know how to make an entrance at the worst possible time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi Mom. I thought you two were unpacking?” David asks, turning to his parents who are lingering in the doorway looking around the store with curiosity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why remain inside when there is a whole island just waiting for us to explore? And where better to stop than the plucky new business everyone is talk-ing about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is very impressive, son. It’s got good bones,” Johnny agrees, looking around the room with an eagle eye for the details.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, yes, thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David watches as his parents make their way around the room, poking at the products and the furniture. He expects that Patrick might take that as his cue to leave, but instead he props himself up against the counter and watches their progress. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David finds himself watching Patrick more than his parents. He seems to fit in here, in the store, even despite his new appearance. But something about him is more tense than before, like he’s trying to build up the courage to say something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick turns and catches him looking. His eyes are so expressive that David fears he might get lost in them, so he turns away decisively putting his back to the other man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are these all from local craftsmen?” his Dad asks, holding up a bottle of body milk with a curious look. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, yes. All the products at the moment are from people from the island, who would otherwise have to travel to the mainland to sell their stuff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And it’s au natural?” Moira chimes in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There is an ingredients list on the side, but yes, that’s the idea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His parents seem suitably impressed, though they keep giving glances up to the stranger in the room who they have yet to address. Moira finally breaks the silence and approaches Patrick, who seems suitably intimidated by being under the full attention of the Rose matriarch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t believe we’ve met,” she says, her eyes narrowed. She sticks a limp hand out for Patrick to take, a similar trick to Alexis, and he does so, shaking it lightly. “I assume you know who I am; Moira Rose, television’s finest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my God--” David mutters, a hand over his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, it’s lovely to meet you Mrs Rose. I’m Patrick, I’m-- a friend, of David’s. He invited me to the wedding.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moira turns to David with a more enthused expression. “You never said you had a date for the wedding, David. You must have known you couldn’t have kept this under wraps for so long.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stevie </span>
  </em>
  <span>is my date to the wedding. Patrick is just surplus.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever David expected Patrick’s reaction to be, for him to smile and shake his head fondly was not it. He blushes, and looks down to his feet, avoiding Patrick’s sparkling eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We didn’t know you were seeing someone, David. When are we going to meet this Stevie?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not </span>
  <em>
    <span>seeing </span>
  </em>
  <span>Stevie, I’m just going to the wedding with her. She’s a friend from my travels.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moira is still looking between him and Patrick with a cat-like grin. “Whatever you say, David. Now, I believe we were promised retribution in the form of an evening meal with our two illustrious children.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re going to dinner,” David translates, looking at Patrick with a small smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are more than welcome to join us if you’d like. We’d love to hear more about David’s mysterious friend, Pat--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“--rick, Patrick,” David fills the gaps for his mother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m flattered, Mrs Rose. But I should probably go and check on my-- Travelling companions,” he looks at David with a teasing glance that makes him flush and look away. “We’re staying in the old goat house, so the accommodation leaves much to be desired, but I wouldn’t want to abandon them for dinner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To her credit, Moira manages to look genuinely disappointed by Patrick’s rejection and nods, serenely. “As you must. It was a pleasure meeting one of David’s many-- friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pleasure to meet you, Patrick,” Johnny agrees, reaching over and shaking his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David rolls his eyes and pushes at his parents to leave the room. They keep eyeing him with amused looks even as the group heads into the cafe and take a seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where is Alexis, David? I thought she’d be here by now,” Moira says once they’re all settled around a circular table in the centre of the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cafe is the busiest David has ever seen it, filled to the brim with wedding guests and tourists staying at the hotel. It’s amazing to see the progress that has been made on updating the popularity of the island, but at the same time, David can’t help but mourn the peaceful serenity of before. Though he can’t be sure if it’s the peace he’s missing, or Patrick, relaxed and laughing in the wooden chair next to him, poking fun at his order, and smiling as the Jazzagals climb on the stage to sing another convoluted cover.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David shakes away the memories and turns his attention back to his parents.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She had a previous commitment, so she’s--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, I’m late.” Stevie rushes over to the table looking harrowed and sweaty. David frowns and watches as she pulls up a chair, the legs making a loud scratching noise as they are dragged across the floor, and throws herself down next to David. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, why are</span>
  <em>
    <span> you </span>
  </em>
  <span>here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alexis asked me to come and have dinner with you in her place; I thought she would have told you,” Stevie says, looking between David and his parents with wide eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She did not, and I would never have placed this burden on you--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You must be Stevie; David’s date to the wedding if I’m not mistaken. I’m Johnny Rose, and this is my wife Moira.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Stevie looks at David with a surprised smile, and he silently glares, begging her not to make things more awkward than they already are. “Well, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>David’s date but I actually, um--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, can I get you anything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my </span>
  <em>
    <span>God,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>David groans, almost ready to leave and call it a night, but not trusting what all these heathens will say about him behind his back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They order dinner, and David sips grumpily on his milkshake as his parents regale Stevie with stories of their fame, and then intervenes when they try to tell stories of David’s childhood, which Stevie laps up with enthusiasm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t believe I asked what you do for a living, Stevie?” Johnny asks as they talk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, actually. I just found out today that I will be managing the hotel on the island,” she says, a bright, almost embarrassed smile on her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David turns to her with excitement. “You spoke to Ronnie?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, she says it ‘seems like I could do with a leg up’, whatever that means. I guess I’ll be a more permanent resident on the island from now on. I mean, if that’s still okay with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s amazing!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does this mean that you will soon be our young David’s landlord?” Moira chimes in, and David’s mood immediately drops. He turns to Stevie who is smirking at him gleefully, and shakes his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, actually. Since the work is finished there I will be looking for alternative accommodation, thanks so much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you can stay at the goat house; I’ve found it incredibly comfortable, basically the same standards as the hotel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The conversation is cut off by the arrival of their food. Twyla seems harried by the crowds but pauses to smile at the table, specifically at Stevie, as she puts their food in front of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here you go, I made sure your burger had the extra relish, Stevie, just the way you like it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stevie smiles in a way that is very familiar to David, and he gapes as she even twirls an errand bit of loose hair around her finger in an extremely flirty manner. “Thank you, Twyla.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When did you meet--?” David tries to ask as Twyla leaves with one last glance at Stevie, who kicks his ankle under the table, a clear dismissal, and starts digging into her meal with enthusiasm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With his parents at the table, David has no choice but to let the conversation go. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the meal is relatively painless, and soon enough they are all stumbling into the street. Stevie disappears in the direction of the old goat house, while his parents wander arm in arm towards the hotel. David hesitates, before slowly making his way along the familiar path to the beach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He finds a familiar patch of sand on the bank to sit in, and brings his knees to his chest to fight off the chill wind. He doesn’t flinch as the sound of someone’s shoes crunching in the sand fills his senses, and turns to look at Patrick as he sits down next to him with a clenched jaw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick is in a familiar plain white t-shirt and another pair of garish <a href="https://www.harveynichols.com/brand/bluemint/396516-arthus-yellow-flamingo/p3845790/">swimming shorts</a>, almost as if to prove a point from David’s earlier comment. This pair is yellow, and covered with ugly blue flamingos. The pattern gives David a tension headache and he rolls his eyes as he puts his chin on his knees and looks away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Those shorts are even worse than the others.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick nods. “Well. I seem to have misplaced my shark ones, you wouldn’t happen to know where they are would you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I long since burned them in a fire.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure you did, David,” he says as he sits in the same position next to David, looking off at the sea reflecting the glow of the moon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well you didn’t seem to want them since you left everything there for me to clean up,” David bites back, unable to resist turning to watch the blush return to Patrick’s pale cheeks. Patrick turns to look at him in the same moment and they sit there together in silence for a moment, just drinking each other in. “We’ve been here before,” David says finally, turning back to look out to the distance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was it this cold last time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think I would have noticed if it was,” David says softly. He luxuriates in Patrick’s soft exhale of breath and screws his eyes up, trying not to cry as he finally starts the conversation they’ve been needing so desperately to have.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick speaks before David has a chance to ask, his voice coming out thick and filled with emotion unspoken. “I never should have left.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The outburst surprises David, who pauses and looks at him carefully. “It was probably for the best, considering everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would you say that?” Patrick sounds so broken, so desperate. “I didn’t want to go!” The force of his words almost scares David, who turns just in time to watch an errant tear make its way down Patrick’s cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you hadn’t left then you might never have, and then you’d be trapped here. You clearly found something back on the mainland worth staying away for.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where did you get that idea from?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you didn’t come back,” David tries so hard to stop it from sounding like an accusation, but his voice comes out weakly anyway, he coughs, and tries to clear his throat of emotion. “But it’s fine, I told you it was fine, so-- anyway. I redesigned the hotel, and I’m setting up a store, and--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you meet anyone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who could I possibly have met that would ever compare to--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David’s eyes widen as Patrick leans over and places a hand on his jaw, quick as anything, and kisses him. His lips are soft, but persistent, and so familiar that David automatically relaxes and accepts the intrusion of Patrick’s tongue. He barely has time to sink into the kiss before it’s over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick jerks away, standing up and brushing sand from his swim shorts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He backs away slowly, his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have. Um, that was--” Patrick has his hand over his mouth and looks so concerned that David can’t help but laugh, more in surprise than anything else. Patrick relaxes a little at the sound, and looks back at David. “Look, you’ve got a lot on your plate with the wedding, and the hotel, and your parents, and-- the three of us showing up here. The last thing I want to do is stress you out more. I just-- I can’t leave here without talking to you first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just please, don’t let me leave this island without us talking about everything,” Patrick insists.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. We can talk whenever you’d like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick smiles, and scuffs his shoe in the sand before nodding. “I’ll see you tomorrow, David.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enjoy sleeping in the old goat house,” David calls after him, and grins as Patrick’s laughs echo back, surrounding him in the sweet sound of Patrick’s happiness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, David grows too cold to remain on the beach and returns to the hotel, passing the goat house on the walk. He looks up to the window which is shadowed, and smiles to himself, something reminiscent building back up in his stomach. The song he’d been humming earlier returns to his head, and he has a skip in his step all the way home.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Only two more to go and they're my favourite so still lots to look forward to!</p><p>The song references in this are just The Winner Takes it All for the title; you should 100% listen to that song and focus on the lyrics because it was truthfully the inspiration for this whole fic.</p><p>Thank you so much for reading! 🏝</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. We Know the Start, We Know the End</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>Take it now or leave it,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Now is all we get,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Nothing promised no regrets.</em>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next day passes in a frenzy of Bachelorette party preparations, wherein David spends most of it searching for Alexis. </p><p>The courtyard has to be decorated, and plans made for the next day. He encourages Stevie to keep his parents otherwise occupied on the other side of the island from wherever he is, and sets about creating the dream wedding for his sister, as well as battling off the crowds of people who seem to suddenly desperately need to talk to him.</p><p>Jake turns up every so often, trying to help with decorating and flirting with David all the while. If not with David he turns his attention to whichever volunteers are around, and quickly becomes the gossip of the island.</p><p>David doesn’t hear from Patrick, but he thinks of him all the while, remembering the ways his eyes had shone in the moonlight last night. The way he’d begged that they talk before he leaves. David turns the thought over in his head all day, curious as to what he means.</p><p>Alexis returns at the last minute, having spent the majority of the day evading attention; which is the most out of character statement David might have ever heard coming out his sister’s mouth.</p><p>But he lets her get away with it though, largely due to the tears in her eyes as she sits on the bed in her room. He plaits her hair down her back, and helps her pick out a dress, a beautiful blue glittery one she had had prepared for several weeks before as she sits there, listless, staring into space. </p><p>“Where did you even go?” he asks, but Alexis just shrugs and looks away. </p><p>“I had to get off the island for a bit, David. It’s not a big deal.”</p><p>“Not on the day of your Bachelorette party you don’t, I’ve spent far too long planning this for you to go all rogue on me and ruin it.”</p><p>Alexis pulls a face, somewhere close to a wince, and shrugs. “I think we might be past that point already.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Well, I mean, Ted was telling me that Mutt had something planned for tonight.”</p><p>“When did you speak to Ted?” David asks, his heart rate speeding up as he remembers the conversation they had had in the cafe just a day before. “And what is Mutt planning?”</p><p>“I saw him today for a bit. And I don’t know, he just said he wanted to give us a heads up that Mutt had something planned.”</p><p>David gives a tug on Alexis’ hair as he plaits it and she huffs in annoyance. </p><p>“Day-vid!” she whines, batting his hands off her and taking over from him. It doesn’t take long for him to sigh at her incompetence and take over again, with a gentler hand.</p><p>Back in his own room, David dresses with great care, ensuring his hair is pushed up to its full, intimidating height, and his outfit fits to his body as tightly as possible. His sheer black <a href="https://www.thedoublef.com/uk_en/printed-sheer-shirt-saint-laurent-612334y2a28-g-ysl-1000/?sembox_source=BingShopping&amp;sembox_content=thedoublef&amp;sembox_p=bing_uk_shopping&amp;utm_source=bing&amp;utm_medium=cpc&amp;utm_campaign=%5BUK%5D%20Shopping&amp;utm_term=4576510999466118&amp;utm_content=Ad%20group%20%231&amp;__cf_chl_captcha_tk__=6ba17c0567828fde5e06bb8f05379ad1814d79cb-1599848949-0-AaHUssxHVwZQglMnJwDyLFx16te9x-x7zhF_Xik9p8rfVaZqlnswAG_FC7W7nRK540WEuHeVJAmw1M7lCFwDqr1cDQsHH9ixQj1tbyCVIRUqGMrU6Ekde_xmlyDmsXHPzSEAZmK65F30sIearKz2SGe1fOWn3hVCNmN-bOl6LBtIaYDplVl6WcEx6ZmOzK9C7ZzAlT61e-lFs9vHLYwgZ1EJmGcZE8ZCaIMizwblMBGCXjPGZi-7yHWA4V4PYSSaT-nSyymu6bTuTDKUedtk6RINpDl70_XuPkrh591lJ4zOqKNaNyMmeOOQbKdVYz04S13xal2yQ5dcGvkI5QhtTOIwvXb7sInHPmBEoWdTYiPEU8eIaWGc01p4TSvo0Wk2UfH6NwkctPbapawVrwCZot6_X5YvBJ8p6p2WLI6WUGE6bM4ybkbaWNwWGruv7MAUsq8Z3IQhSz7n8mafccTBjR5borgSEcj8H-vuAgDKiRdDIk_LHXgUsINA1kLT9rkzdnaFbgw0MI94DV34_bcSXlTBL-kGysQ5DG9kRuBouxRmiZeBFsPmAAz3YXqnFJBT5dY0PxdOvB9nONzoW5fESx0ZqXRHKqbLbGB2ggvg0kTQXmr0b7JqMk_gCOie_mXVBxYkdjeXo1OBP6EcqzcZ_IexHyv3geizCz9NJd9kDdl24XbIdNHb71FTUU2SLnlUdE3eqnO6RybWuFnnxcRwnCCyRP_PuK8klnT5UMsVuIaA_peiQVyzNjWCuSrttWmAxLMdsLboW8EHYHBP0Wf7wuB8jcSEWZKuj4oBzgKpeC8f8_7l_s3JzKwlTJ4VejjDLVoITAi6B6A8qeLQK9HUhbk">Saint Laurent shirt</a> clings tightly to his shoulders as he buttons it up and looks in the full length mirror at his outfit. The event may not be the height of luxury he had experienced in the past, but at least in this outfit he knows he’ll be the best dressed person there.</p><p><em> Patrick will like me in this, </em> he muses, before quickly shutting down that train of thought with a shake of the head. Tonight isn’t about Patrick, he reminds himself. It’s about Alexis.</p><p>By the time he has prepared for the evening, the party is already in full swing. He and Alexis head down together with Stevie in tow, and step out the doorway onto the courtyard. It’s surrounded in brightly coloured outfits and glittering sequins. The pulse of the music beating and making David’s skin tingle with anticipation. </p><p>The string lights around the trees create a rainbow effect on the small square, focused on the cobblestones and colourful decorative trees surrounding the dancefloor. There are tables set up around the corners that people are standing on, and an open bar at one end. It’s all perfectly thought out and planned by David, and he can’t help but be a little proud knowing it has turned out exactly as he’d imagined.</p><p>Unfortunately, that pride is soon quashed. A bell rings somewhere, and David turns his attention over to the small stage in the corner. He had been hesitant to allow it to be put up, but Alexis had convinced him that by the end of the evening he wouldn’t even remember any embarrassing performance the villagers tried to put on. </p><p>He’s sorely forgetting that decision now, watching Jocelyn and Twyla climb onto the stage and stand on either side. He should have emotionally prepared to watch a Jazzagals performance, but he can’t help but scowl at the fact that his meticulously designed party is already being taken over. </p><p>Both Jocelyn and Twyla are wearing blue, sparkling jumpsuits with a low v-neck, decorated with feathers and sequins, and thick chunky silver heels. They are smiling at the audience almost slyly as they set up their microphones in their hands, clicking them on so the sound echoes on the loudspeaker. </p><p>David is expecting another of the Jazzagals to join them as they set up a third microphone, but he’s wrong. It is for this reason and this reason only that he gasps in surprise, his jaw hanging open when, between them, Patrick steps onto the stage. His <a href="https://www.asos.com/twisted-tailor/twisted-tailor-super-skinny-sheer-shirt-with-floral-lace-in-blue/prd/13005274?irgwc=1&amp;clickid=_xvcbvqa1dckftk3lkk0sohz3zu2xiugcg6jjjbdt00&amp;affid=25379&amp;pubref=2103004">shirt</a> is a mixture of blue and black lace, the thin fabric leaving nothing to the imagination and revealing the expanse of pale skin across his stomach and chest. </p><p>The sleeves have been flared out with extra fabric, making them bunch around his wrists. Even despite its already revealing nature, Patrick has left the top three buttons of the shirt undone, as if only to reveal the delicious patch of skin around his neck that used to be reserved solely for David. His black silk shorts barely hit mid-thigh, and are held up unnecessarily by some silver glittering suspenders which loop over his shoulders and somehow pull the collar of his shirt even wider open.</p><p>David gapes at him, unable to stop his eyes from moving up and down the outfit. Even his hair has been fluffed up, despite not being able to take on the shape it did when it was longer and curly, an attempt has clearly been made.</p><p>Finally, David’s appreciation of the outfit stops when he falls on Patrick’s matching thick soled <a href="http://what-is-fashion.com/mens-celebrity-runway-ankle-boots/114-mens-glitter-silver-western-zipper-mid-calf-ankle-boots.html">silver shoes</a>. They are a slightly lower heel than Twyla and Jocelyn’s, but they are gaudy and decorative, and so ugly that David can’t help but laugh in astounded delight at the whole look.</p><p>Stevie is elbowing David in the ribs, and he winces, trying to swat her off without looking away from the train wreck of a performance taking place on the stage.</p><p>The two women on either side stamp their feet in a rhythm, before singing, only slightly off-pitch. </p><p>
  <em> Super Trouper beams are gonna blind me </em>
</p><p>
  <em> But I won't feel blue </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Like I always do </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 'Cause somewhere in the crowd there's you </em>
</p><p>They look at Patrick a moment, who seems to have gotten distracted looking for someone in the crowd. He jumps to life, and nods towards Jake, standing just off stage, who finally gets the message and presses play on the old speaker. </p><p>The ratty noise of a pre-recorded track fills the courtyard. Patrick steps up to the microphone and finally, their eyes lock across the room. He smiles, that teasing fond smile, and David stares back, unable to tear his eyes away from the other man. </p><p>The crowd around him is screaming its support, Stevie is whooping and yelling, and David is being shaken side to side by the movement, but his eyes don’t leave Patrick’s, even as he begins to sing.</p><p>
  <em> I was sick and tired of everything, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> When I called you last night from Glasgow </em>
</p><p>
  <em> All I do is eat and sleep and sing </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Wishing every show was the last show. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> So imagine I was glad to hear you're coming, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Suddenly I feel all right </em>
</p><p>
  <em> (And suddenly it's gonna be) </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And it's gonna be so different when I'm on the stage tonight. </em>
</p><p>It’s awful, David should be hating this. Not only is Patrick purposefully embarrassing him by singing to him in front of everyone, the whole performance is practically a joke; the gaudy costumes and the glitter. It should be humiliating, and David should be desperate to escape. </p><p>Patrick, Twyla, and Jocelyn move around each other in sync, all holding their microphones as they stamp and step along the stage in time to the music, singing all the while. </p><p>But Patrick is smiling that full bodied grin he used to do when he knew he’d made David flustered with his teasing, and he looks so silly, and happy, that David can’t look away. </p><p>He doesn’t even realise he’s smiling back until his cheeks begin to ache.</p><p>
  <em> Facing twenty thousand of your friends, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> How can anyone be so lonely? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Part of a success that never ends, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Still I'm thinking about you only. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> There are moments when I think I'm going crazy, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> But it's gonna be alright, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> (You'll soon be changing everything) </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Everything will be so different when I'm on the stage tonight. </em>
</p><p>He steps forward as the song comes to its last verse, singing only to David, his face turning serious and wanting. David freezes, his stomach swirling under the undivided attention and his face likely red and hot.</p><p>
  <em> So I'll be there when you arrive, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The sight of you will prove to me I'm still alive,  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> and when you take me in your arms, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And hold me tight. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I know it's gonna mean so much tonight. </em>
</p><p>The dancing gets worse; Patrick wiggles his sleeves around, the fabric fluttering and glittering in the colourful stage lights. He’s still looking at David but he’s dancing along with the other two women on the stage all of them grinning and laughing through the lyrics. </p><p>
  <em> Tonight the Super Trouper lights are gonna find me, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Shining like the sun. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Smiling, having fun. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Feeling like a number one. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Tonight the Super Trouper beams are gonna blind me, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> But I won't feel blue. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Like I always do, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 'Cause somewhere in the crowd there's you. </em>
</p><p>The courtyard erupts in a litany of applause. David is jostled from all sides, but he can’t look away from Patrick, whose easy confidence had since dissolved to an uncertainty at David’s reaction. He’s covering the glare of the lights with his hand, and trying to peer out into the audience even as Jocelyn pulls him off the stage and back towards the door of the hotel, where the three of them disappear from sight. </p><p>He has half an instinct to follow them into the room and find Patrick; he’s not sure what he would do after that, but he is just starting to head in that direction when there is a scream from behind him. </p><p>David startles, looking around for the nonexistent bear, and grabs at Stevie, who seems similarly confused. They follow the gaze of the crowd up to the rooftops of the hotel, where the simultaneous Bachelor party seems to have gathered around the courtyard, wearing ridiculous masks and holding onto ropes. </p><p>The first one lands amongst the throngs of dancers and is embraced into the crowd. </p><p>“Fucking Mutt,” David mutters as he watches his sister’s fiance land clumsily on the floor and head towards her. He’s holding out a shell necklace tied to a black string; an ugly, tacky thing. David smirks as she pulls a face, turning her back to him as he ties it around her neck carefully, pulling her hair free to fall back across her shoulders. </p><p>David pulls Stevie off to the bar, where they both down several polar bear shots just to make it through the rest of the night.</p><p>“How many of these do you think we’ll need before we start actually enjoying this party?”</p><p>Stevie shoves David playfully. “You planned it!”</p><p>“Yeah, and now the dumb bachelor party has come and ruined it!”</p><p>The music beats loudly around them. Stevie grabs David’s hand and drags him over to the  dance floor to join the dancing. He lets her do it, and they follow the movements of those around them with surprising ease. He spins her once under his arm, and laughs as she gestures for him to do the same, only to be flung away from her at the last minute, tripping instead into someone else’s arms. </p><p>“I’m glad you liked my performance, David. But I didn’t think you’d like it <em> that </em>much.”</p><p>Patrick’s arms are solidly holding David’s waist, his warm palms spreading heat quickly through the thin fabric of his black sheer shirt. </p><p>David looks down to see that Patrick’s has changed from his performance costume and his first instinct of disappointment is overridden when he looks down to find Patrick’s <a href="https://www.debenhams.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/prod_10701_10001_094010605605_-1">silky shirt</a> completely unbuttoned, leaving his chest on full display with little to no coverage. </p><p>“I didn’t know you ever performed without your guitar,” he mutters, unable to pull his eyes away from the silky fabric of Patrick’s shirt sleeve, which he absent mindedly rubs between his fingertips. “I like this.”</p><p>“More me?”</p><p>David makes an apologetic face and shrugs. “Maybe just a happier version of you. It’s soft,” he mumbles, the alcohol already loosening his tongue as he palms at Patrick’s shoulder like an over-enthusiastic puppy.</p><p>“That sounds about right.</p><p>David smirks and opens his mouth to reply, but the music picks up again and they are dragged backwards into the centre. </p><p>
  <em> People everywhere, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> A sense of expectation hanging in the air. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Giving out a spark, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Across the room your eyes are glowing in the dark. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And here we go again, we know the start, we know the end, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Masters of the scene. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> We've done it all before and now we're back to get some more, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You know what I mean. </em>
</p><p>Patrick seems surprised as David chooses to stay and dance with him rather than turning back to Stevie who has disappeared somewhere else. But there is no chance of David leaving Patrick now. Not with several units of alcohol making their home on his veins, and Patrick’s soft skin just screaming to be touched.</p><p>
  <em> Voulez-vous, take it now or leave it, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Now is all we get, nothing promised, no regrets. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Voulez-vous, ain't no big decision, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> you know what to do, la question c'est voulez-vous </em>
</p><p>“It’s not quite dancing on the beach, but will you?” Patrick asks, holding a hand out to David who takes it with a small smile. </p><p>They’re pulled back into the madness, the very floor itself seems to vibrate with the beat of the music, and the feet jumping on it. David leans into the chaos, wrapping his arms around Patrick as he does so to keep steady. </p><p>Patrick’s eyes darken on David’s as they circle each other, smiles dropping into something more serious. Their eyes remain locked, and it’s somehow more intimate than anything they’ve ever done before. Patrick isn’t undressing him with his eyes, he’s taking him in, outfit and all, as if all of David’s baggage is just part of the joy. </p><p>It’s far too familiar for a dance, and yet David can’t bring himself to put an end to it. He lets Patrick drink in his fill, and more, as they spin around in relative anonymity on the dark floor. </p><p>They keep following the dance for a while, before David’s resolve finally breaks. He slips his hands inside Patrick’s open shirt and slowly begins to walk him backwards by the hips through the crowd, his hands thumbing the gentle skin of his lower stomach. </p><p>They narrowly dodge Stevie dancing with Twyla, as well as Jocelyn and Roland rocking together in a truly indecent display, before they are free of the crowds. </p><p>David presses Patrick gently against the cobbled wall of the hotel, and just looks at him. His brown eyes wide and gaze focusing on David’s lips. There are few errant pieces of glitter sticking to his cheek from somewhere and David reaches up a hand to brush them away. One piece sticks and he leaves it, instead stroking over it with a zoned out fascination.</p><p>Something about his outfit, and the performance, and the look on his face all remind David of the Patrick he used to know. The carefree guy who ran away from home to find himself, bought a motorbike and rented a cottage on an island on the edge of the earth. A guy that made David feel appreciated, and desired, and wanted in ways he had never experienced before. </p><p>Patrick was so different to the others because he saw David. Perhaps he related to something in his desperation to get away, but the root of it was that Patrick was willing to try and understand David, and stayed even after learning the truth.</p><p>“David, I--”</p><p>David holds a finger over Patrick’s mouth, silencing the words before they can escape.</p><p>“Don’t say anything.”</p><p>They’re kissing before David even realises it’s happening; Patrick pressing up against him with a needy moan and pulling him closer. It’s so familiar, the press of their skin and heat of contact, David pushing Patrick against the wall and crowding in, arching closer until there is almost no room between them.</p><p>Patrick still puts all his attention on David. He cups his cheek to turn his head, and makes little humming noises just the same as he used to. It’s a heady feeling, being desired from more than a skin-deep attraction. It feels like being turned inside out as Patrick lightly caresses his cheek, and his neck; sinking into the feeling of their lips pressed together, like two halves of a whole.</p><p>David jumps as someone stumbles into his back, knocking him further into Patrick. He pulls away to peer behind them to see the party has got more rowdy. </p><p>He looks back to Patrick, who is staring at him with such open emotion, his eyes wide and so full of want. </p><p>David makes a choice; he can’t handle those eyes again, looking at him with such hope. The heady feeling of being desired sinks in his stomach like an anchor, and it’s suddenly all too much.</p><p>He shakes Patrick off, turns, and runs through the dancers, across the hotel courtyard. He hears someone shout for him, and footsteps following him, but he floors it for the stairs, knocking through some errant partygoers in his desperation to escape.</p><p>Patrick finally catches up with him on a balcony by the hotel, overlooking the thundering waves of the sea. David leans against the white washed wall and catches his breath, looking out into the light of the moon. </p><p>“You have got to stop running away from me,” Patrick says, leaning next to him, just far enough that they don’t touch but close enough that David can feel the warmth radiating from his body.</p><p>“Gotta keep you on your toes somehow,” David bites back, even as he’s closing his eyes and suppressing the panic rising in his chest.</p><p>“You don’t need to run to do that, David,” Patrick says with a laugh. “I’m plenty on my toes as it is.” </p><p>There’s silence for a moment as both let the emotions of the evening crash onto them, the weight buckling their shoulders as their brains catch up with them.</p><p>“I figure I should probably tell you some things, huh?”</p><p>“Probably,” David laughs, his face resting in his hands as he takes steady breaths. </p><p>He hears Patrick shifting next to him, and peeks out the corner of his eye to see that he’s turned to face him. </p><p>“I never got married, David. I went home and I told my family why I couldn’t stay with them, why I needed to come back here, and then I got on the next plane to come right back to you.”</p><p>David frowns. “You didn’t, you never came back--”</p><p>“At the pier, maybe two weeks after I left, I ran into someone, and they told me you had gone off with someone else. A girlfriend, they said, and that you didn’t want to see me again. I didn’t believe them, I was going to come and find you. But then they said that I would make you miserable again, and I just couldn’t do it.”</p><p>“What did you do instead?”</p><p>“I have a job in Toronto as a business consultant. It’s far enough away from my family that I don’t feel trapped, and far enough away from you that I can stop myself from coming back.”</p><p>“Why would you <em>ever</em> need to stop yourself from coming back?” David asks, his mind running away with him as he tries to absorb all the information at lightning speed.</p><p>“I couldn’t be the reason for you being upset, no matter how jealous I was. I couldn’t be that person who decided what you wanted for you. I couldn’t bear to make you miserable.”</p><p>“You never made me miserable,” David insists, his voice coming out broken and desperate and his heart crashing against his rib cage in time with the waves crashing against the rocks beneath them.</p><p>Patrick huffs a breath out and shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s true.”</p><p>“Your presence has never made me miserable,” David amends. </p><p>“Not even these last few days?”</p><p>“No, I-- I’m glad you came. I--”</p><p>The clattering of shoes on the cobbled stone makes the pair turn away from each other. Stevie emerges from behind the wall with a guilty look, one strap of her dress has fallen down her shoulder and she looks at David with frenzied eyes.</p><p>“David, Alexis fainted.”</p><p>“She-- What?”</p><p>With one final guilty look at Patrick, David races back to the dancefloor, pushing curious, nosy wedding guests out of the way to get to his sister, lying on her back on the floor. </p><p>“Okay, I need all of you to take a step back and give us some space here,” he says loudly as he’s getting to the centre. </p><p>He can hear the reverberations of his statement through the gathered crowd but nobody seems to move, all too curious about the bride-to-be lying on the floor. David looks around for Mutt who is nowhere to be seen, and sighs in annoyance. </p><p>“Fucking typical.”</p><p>“I’ll help,” Stevie says, stepping forwards and pushing people out of the way to give them some room. </p><p>Somehow, he and Stevie manage to get Alexis off the floor, one arm slung over each shoulder, and they fight their way back through the crowds. On their way back to the room, David catches Patrick, standing off to the side looking concerned. </p><p>He shoots him a look which he hopes portrays his feelings accurately, and gets a weak smile in response, before the rest of his evening is taken up with concern for Alexis.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The title and song references are to Voulez-Vous, and Patrick sings Super Trouper!</p><p>Hope you enjoyed 🏝</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. When All is Said and Done</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>Once I lost my way when something good had just begun,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>lesson learned it's history when all is said and done.</em>
</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>After two months it's finally all up and published. Thank you to everyone who has read along with this fic; it's the culmination of a lot of hard work and torturing fairmanor with constant questions. </p><p>I'm moving back to uni tomorrow, AND this is officially my 50th fic, so this seems like a healthy place to stop for a while. I'm not sure when or if I will pick up with writing again, but it's been such a joy to be a part of this fandom over the last couple months and I'm so grateful to everyone who has made the experience so incredible. I'll still be active reading and taking part in the odd challenge or fic exchange hopefully though.</p><p>Just a final thank you to everyone just for reading this, and I really hope you have enjoyed the summery vibes even as we move towards Autumnal weather. </p><p>Now, on with the final chapter!!<br/>Becca 🌼</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The morning of the wedding dawns, a bright pale light spreading across the island and bringing with it the daunting facts of the day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David wakes up in his bed at only 6 o’clock. Stevie is snoring like a machine next to him still in her Bachelorette outfit. The light is glaring into his eyes, and his racing heart won’t let him rest. He sighs, turns over, and tries to get some more sleep but the thrumming of his skin prevents it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He climbs out of bed and dresses in his old pair of black swimming trunks and his white DON’T t-shirt, slipping on some espadrilles and heading towards the beach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He must be on the beach for a few hours before Stevie joins him. It’s colder than usual, the sun having failed to warm the sand just yet, and David gratefully accepts the cream coloured cable-knit sweater she hands him. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her it’s the one he used to lend to Patrick when he’d get chilly in the evening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re up early,” she says as she sits next to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A lot to think about,” David responds easily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Patrick?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alexis, mainly. But yes, Patrick too, I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t understand what happened. She was fine, she was dancing with Mutt when I last saw her. Then Ted was there and he was talking to Mutt, and then they disappeared and the next thing I know, Alexis is on the floor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ted?” David asks, furrowing his brows as he tries to work out the puzzle. “I wonder where they went.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wonder why they didn’t come back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David hums in agreement and watches as a dried-out piece of seaweed get blown across the sand by the wind. He’s about to speak again, when Stevie beats him to it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What were you and Patrick talking about last night? Seemed like I interrupted something pretty important”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David frowns, fighting to keep the emotion out of his voice so that he can explain, and eventually coughs lightly and turns to Stevie. “He never went back to get married. He came back here but somebody told him I was with you, and that I didn’t want to see him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What does this mean? Is he moving back here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David snorts and shakes his head. “Oh, I don’t think so. I think we might have missed our chance. There’s a whole life out there waiting for him, why wouldn’t he go back to it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t you say the same thing last time? And he came back then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s almost a surprise to David when he feels a hot tear running down his cheek. He raises a hand to wipe it away and shrugs. “I shouldn’t even be thinking of this right now, Alexis is-- Getting married today, and there is so much to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“David, hey,” Stevie tugs at his arm until he turns to look at her. She stares him straight on with a serious expression. “You tell me if there is anything you need, alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m being serious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, I know. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nods, seeming satisfied if not still a little suspicious, and they walk back up to the hotel, arm in arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David heads straight for Alexis’ room, where he finds her lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling with pale blue eyes and a sad expression. He flops down onto the bed next to her, jostling her as much as possible, but she doesn’t react. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want to do?” he asks as she continues to stare up at a small crack in the ceiling. He follows her gaze and frowns at it, adding ‘fill in crack’ to his various to-do list in his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should get married. I said I would, didn’t I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since when did you do what you were supposed to?” David tries to tease. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“David.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looks so completely miserable that David drops the teasing expression and looks at her with pity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to. It’s not too late to call off the wedding.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would I call off the wedding?” she asks, the cool waves of her eyes turning to fire as she fixes David with a furious expression. “I’m not-- Just because you can’t handle commitment, just because </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>run away at the first sign of someone who cares for you. I’m not, I might never find something like this again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words sting, but David pushes it aside and focuses on helping his sister. “Ignore me, I’m not-- I’m just trying to go off what you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what I want. I’ve spent my whole life on my own, David. If I don’t marry Mutt I might be alone for the rest of my life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, that one stings. “I’m sorry, what exactly am I?” David asks, sitting up and looking at his sister, a deep frown etched onto his forehead. “I spent my </span>
  <em>
    <span>entire</span>
  </em>
  <span> life sending you passports, and coloured contact lenses because you were off galavanting across the world, and suddenly </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> the one that has been all on her own?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alexis seems surprised by his outburst, but at least it finally breaks through her vacant expression. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marrying Mutt isn’t the way to feel less lonely, Alexis.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want me to do?” David asks, staring at her with a focused glare, as if it will help him read her emotions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sniffs pathetically and nods. “Will you give me away, David?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought Dad was going to do that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just, I won’t feel right doing this without you there next to me. Will you do it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David nods and lies back down on the pillows next to his sister. She rests her head on his shoulder, and pets at the sweater gently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like this, by the way,” she says, gesturing to the cream wool. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David laughs and shakes his head. “Yeah, me too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*** </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David helps Alexis get ready; does her hair and make-up, and fluffs out her dress as they head out of the motel at midday, towards the other side of the island.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wedding party stands waiting at the foot of the hill. A small crowd of familiar faces standing out against the white backdrop; their parents, Stevie and Twyla, Ronnie. They all seem pitiful of their arrival, but nobody says anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their parents greet them with a fond hug; Johnny in his usual navy suit and their mother in a decorative pink and gold gown, more suited to a red carpet event than a wedding but never lacking in her splendour.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David helps his sister on to the small brown donkey, the saddle decorated in matching flowers and frills, and they start the slow march up towards the chapel. The sun is shining, Alexis’ simple lace veil hangs from her head and glitters in the daylight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David takes in the view as he walks along with his sister; far enough away that the donkey doesn’t get any ideas about his wedding outfit. The stones paint white chalk across his clean shoes but he can’t bring himself to care. Not as he watches Alexis laugh tensely at something Moira had said, head swung back to feign ease even as they move closer to her impending fate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They reach the peak of the hill and the rest of the guests go into the church while David helps his sister dismount. In the end, it’s just the two of them left, standing on the clifftop, looking out across the ocean. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David fixes her veil, fussing around her as she stands stock still and looks out at the sea, a small crease between her eyebrows betraying the thoughts that are no doubt rushing through her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This place really does feel like the edge of the earth sometimes,” she mutters, as David tugs at her dress straps to make sure they sit in exactly the right position. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s got you feeling all nostalgic?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just realised, this will be the last time I see the view; this view, before I have to leave her forever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David freezes. “You’re not leaving here forever, Alexis. You’re just going away for a while; it’s nothing you haven’t done before. I’ll still be here when you come back, whenever that is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, I know. I just-- it feels different this time. Like, once I leave here I’ll begin missing things again, with you. Things I have only just caught up on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What things?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like, the galleries, and Mom and Dad. Whatever is going on with Patrick. I just, I feel like I’ve missed so much, and if I leave here now I’ll be leaving you on your own, and I will never get caught up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David lets her talk but ignores her statement and turns to fix her with an even stare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine, you don’t need to worry about me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. That’s not what this is really about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is this really about then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alexis shrugs, looking tormented. “I think this is the first time in my life I’ve ever felt like I’m trapped. Like I can’t-- I can’t--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t get married.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that statement, all the tension drains out of Alexis’ body. Her shoulders drop, and her face breaks into a serene look of calm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t get married. I’m not getting married.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it-- Is it because of Ted?” David asks, struggling to keep up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I mean. Kind of, perhaps. God, what was I doing, David? I was going to get married for what, because it felt like I should? Because he asked and I didn’t want to turn him down? Why would I even do that? I’ve turned down a million guys before but suddenly I’m at the altar ready to get married just because what-- I don’t want to hurt his feelings, because we liked each other and it seemed like the right thing to do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is so-- I’ve just been going along with it and ignoring what is right in front of me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is right in front of you?” David asks, turning to look where Alexis’ eyes are trained, but seeing nothing but the familiar blue sea and skies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The situation is so absurd that David can’t help but laugh. Alexis does too, and they cling to the stone wall, giggling until tears form in their eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my God, I need to go somewhere,” she says suddenly, sobering up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to go somewhere, I need to avoid the questions. You should-- Can you tell them it’s off?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alexis, you can’t--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David tries to argue but she’s already slipped out of his grip and headed to the stairs. She has just hit the top step when she bumps into Ted, looking flushed and hurried in a slightly rumpled navy suit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, I’m late. There was a turtle hatching last night and I was up until like--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ted! Come on,” Alexis doesn’t let him finish before she’s turning him around and pushing him towards the stairs, following closely behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What-- Where are we--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ted looks back at David for support but gets nothing but a shrug. David watches until his sister is out of sight, all the way at the bottom of the massive cliff, giggling and talking all the way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence that hits him is sudden and deafening. He steels himself for a moment longer, enjoying the blow of the wind. Finally, he opens the chapel doors and steps into the warm room; filled with guests and family members fanning themselves impatiently, friends from Alexis’ travels, and three important people from his own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room is beautifully decorated with white flowers to match the courtyard. David sighs at the thought of the mood boards he had prepared a few months before for this very day going to waste over a wedding not held.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The clacking of David’s metal heeled shoes on the stone floor draws all attention to his descent down the aisle to Mutt. He grabs his arm and turns so they are facing away from the curious eyes of the wedding guests. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She called it off didn’t she?” Mutt whispers, unprompted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Yes, she did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David hadn’t been expecting tears, but he also hadn’t been expecting the sigh of relief as Mutt nods and his own shoulders drop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry, you don’t need to do anything, I can explain to everyone if you need me to,” David says quickly, desperate not to end up in the middle of one of Alexis’ classic scenes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m gonna go. Start my journey to the mainland early. I think I’ll just hitch a ride on a boat and head south past the edge of the earth. See where I end up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you need anything?” David mutters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mutt shakes his head. “Just-- Can you explain it to everyone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David nods silently and watches as Mutt heads quickly out the side door, his head angled down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns back to the room, only to be faced by a plethora of wide, curious eyes, and baited breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, so, the wedding is cancelled,” he announces, wringing his hands together nervously. “So, I don’t know what else I’m meant to say.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A murmur rises across the room as people start gossiping to each other, David seeks out Stevie’s eyes only to find she is looking around in concern. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Is the afterparty still on?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Where is Alexis?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Will we be getting refunds for travelling here?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>David is starting to feel hounded. He looks around the room, certain that the walls are going to start closing in, when somebody stands up from the back of the room and approaches him, abruptly ending his impending panic with his casual aura.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s nothing to worry about, ladies and gentlemen. There will still be a wedding.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David watches with disbelief as Jake walks up to him and stands at his side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you I was an open-minded guy, David. If you can be too then I think we can make this work,” he mutters as he comes to a stop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David is so distracted by the chino’s Jake has decided to wear to a </span>
  <em>
    <span>wedding</span>
  </em>
  <span> of all places, that it takes a moment for him to register what he’s just said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, you’re suggesting that I marry </span>
  <em>
    <span>you?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Jake grins, “How about it? It doesn’t have to be forever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my God this can’t be happening. I’m going to kill Alexis.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David covers his face with his hands, aware of the eyes of the entire room looking at him. He’s almost relieved when he hears Stevie’s voice through the chatter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me, sorry. I just need to get through,” she says as she pushes her way out of her row.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She comes to a stop in front of him just as he looks back up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If anyone is marrying, David, it should be me,” she says resolutely, though the words themselves seem to make her so uncomfortable that he’s worried for a moment she will puke. “If that’s what this discussion is about, and someone needs to get married today, then it should be me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What-- Why--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re the first man I have ever loved,” Stevie pauses, and peeks out of the corner of her eye at Twyla, who beams at her affectionately from her seat. “Well, actually you’re the only man I’ve ever loved. If someone needs to marry you, then I’ll do it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since when did this become a discussion about people marrying </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” David exclaims, waving his hands at the two sincere, ridiculous people standing in front of him. “I never said I wanted to marry anyone--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel like if we’re discussing marriage, I should have at least some sort of say in this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick’s voice comes from behind David, and he spins, backing under the chuppah slightly to face him. He’s wearing a thin, beige suit, and his hair has been fluffed up, and he’s looking at David with such gentleness and care he almost swoons on the spot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now really,” David hears Moira mutter from the front row. “You wait almost four decades for a suitable companion for your offspring, and then three materialise all at once.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glares at her only for a second before turning back to Patrick. He’s staring at David as if waiting for a response. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is happening right now, are you saying you want to marry me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” Patrick exclaims, and David tries to keep the ridiculous sense of disappointment from showing on his face. “I mean, yes. Not yet, but maybe someday soon-- In the future. Not right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” David draws out, a small smile growing on his face. “So what exactly-- Why do you get a say in all this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking at Patrick’s face, David almost forgets the rest of the room, staring down this conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“David,” he mutters desperately. “I have loved you for over a year now, and I thought-- If we’re talking about anyone marrying someone. That I should at least be considered. My offer should be considered.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what exactly is your offer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David can see the moment on Patrick’s face where he realises David is smiling. His pale eyebrows jump up and then relax, and he smiles and shakes his head. “My offer is that I want to stay. I’ve never been happier than the summer we spent together. I’ve never felt more like myself than when I’m with you. You make me feel right, David, and if you’ll have me, I want that, with you. For good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean you want to move here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room has gone a deathly silent, as David regards Patrick with delicate interest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll go wherever you go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David moves forward before he can stop himself and grabs Patrick by the face. He kisses him with all the emotion he’s been bottling up in the last year, opening himself up and letting Patrick take whatever he chooses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He vaguely hears an uproar from the room but all he can focus on is the solid feeling of Patrick’s hands around his waist, the soft press of his lips, and scandalous sweep of his tongue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulls away to breathe, pressing two more decisive kisses on Patrick’s lips before pressing their foreheads together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did I hear you say that you loved me?” David whispers into the tiny space between their lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I say it again will you kiss me again?” Patrick replies, his eyes still closed and face leaning upwards as if searching for David blindly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David says nothing as he pulls Patrick back in. This time, he can’t ignore the sounds around him, the clapping from the wedding guests and faint hum of the crowd. He pulls away with an apologetic pet at the back of Patrick’s head, who finally opens his eyes to look at him with that blinding gaze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, I’m a little lost. Is there going to be a wedding?” the officiant asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, I’m not sure, I don’t actually know what’s happening right now,” Stevie replies, looking at David for clarification. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no wedding,” he confirms, looking away for only a moment before turning back to Patrick whose eyes haven’t left his face. “Not just yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Later on, David couldn’t say how they managed to get the rest of the wedding guests back down the mountain with such little fuss. He couldn’t say what happened to Mutt, or Alexis for the rest of the day, or who cleared the decorations from the chapel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he remembers the meal they have in the courtyard, still decorated for a reception turned party in which he is given the crowning seat at the focus point of the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He remembers Patrick staying close to him, feeding him bites of the abandoned wedding cake with his left hand, his eyes locked to David’s lips while the right traces patterns into David’s shoulder, as if desperate to touch every spot of David’s body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alexis returns during the meal, with Ted in tow. They sit down to one side of the festivities, sharing small glances and smiles, but the guests are too distracted by the celebration to really comment on the reemergence of the runaway bride.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There are speeches from his family, focusing on nothing whatsoever. Johnny talks for ten minutes about the importance of proper building maintenance, and Stevie makes a speech about Twyla’s cooking. Everyone has too much to drink that night, and spends the evening in a distracted daze, giddy from the ridiculous day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Night falls across Kalokairi, and David grows weary, standing from the table and heading away from the party, towards privacy, leading Patrick along with him by the hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick follows him to his room at the hotel with a dazed expression. David wastes no time in pressing him against the door, seeking out his pulse points with his tongue, and feeling the beating of his heart against his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They fall onto the bed in what David might once have described as Patrick tearing him apart. It doesn’t feel like that anymore, it feels like he’s being put back together, piece by piece, until everything is back where it should be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Low grunts and groans fill the room as David presses into Patrick. They reverberate around the room, filling the space with noise and heat as David rediscovers the crevices of Patrick’s body. Kissing each freckle with a reverent focus, filled with heady desire which bursts to the surface after so long subdued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick falls asleep with his head on David’s chest, slowly moving up and down with his breaths as they lie together in the moonlight which peeks through the curtains they never closed. David doesn’t sleep, his skin still thrumming with the messy day and his hands carding through Patrick’s auburn hair, showing the promise of curls soon to re-emerge just around his ears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t sleep?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David startles slightly at Patrick’s voice, and smiles down at him. “Don’t want to just yet,” he replies, thumbing his way across his eyebrow, drinking in the sight of his face, relaxed and oh so familiar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick catches David’s hand in his own and kisses his thumb, eyes already drifting shut again as he nuzzles closer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happens tomorrow?” David whispers, just as Patrick is on the edge of sleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“First day of the rest of our lives,” he mumbles back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm. What does </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> involve?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was thinking perhaps by starting with a picnic?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David laughs and rolls his eyes. “Something to get used to,” he reminisces as he lets sleep take him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, in the morning, such childish fantasies become reality. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David waits for the dream to shatter, for real life responsibilities to return, but they never do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They dress in familiar swim shorts; Patrick reclaims his teal sharks from David’s chest of drawers and David slips on his comfortable black pair. An unbuttoned white shirt graces each of their shoulders, doing little more than making them appropriate for a small walk without hiding any of the marked up skin of their chests from their night of reconnecting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David watches as Patrick packs up a picnic basket filled with all the treats from before; the cheese, the muffins, the blanket that David had collected in preparation for lunch for one in the days following the wedding. He slings his guitar in its case across his shoulder and leads David out of the hotel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The courtyard is a mess of decorations and empty plastic glasses. A table must have been knocked over at some point after they had left, but Patrick leads David through the carnage and out onto a familiar stone staircase, overlooking the ocean. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They wander hand in hand towards the sea, along a messy path to the foot of another hill. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David pulls Patrick to a stop as he realises their direction. “Where are you taking me?” he asks, looking up the road towards the cottage; their cottage, and the place they started their life together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come with me David?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He accepts, because he never did learn how to say no to Patrick, and on they walk, up the winding path to the top. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stand and stare at the small stone cottage, with its rusty blue shutters, and boxes full of dying flowers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It needs some work, but after your redesigning of the hotel I think we’re up to the job. What do you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re aware that I’ve been to this cottage before, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am, I am. Are you aware that I bought it though?” Patrick clarifies with a cheeky smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You-- What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you I was serious didn’t I? This is me being serious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When did you even get the chance?” David asks, unable to tear his eyes away from the building, his face blank with shock. As he stares at it, it seems to grow in his eyes; its potential making itself known, and his mind already awash with ideas.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The first day I was here, I told Stevie I had something I needed to do, and I spoke to Ronnie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And she let you buy the cottage?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no, absolutely not. In fact, she made the whole thing harder than it needed to be. But she pointed me in the direction of Ray, the guy who rented it to me in the first place. He was here for the wedding, and he gave me a pretty good rate for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But that was all before-- You didn’t even know that I would--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know what would happen between us, sure. But I knew what I wanted. I always knew what I wanted, David.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm, you wanted a cottage?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick smiles, “I wanted a life spent with the person I love. And I want that here, in this cottage, where I was the happiest I’ve ever been. It’s not-- You don’t have to stay here with me, if you don’t want to. I know you love the hotel and I would never force you to--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David’s voice cracks at this statement, and he covers his mouth with his free as he lets out a small sob and nods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words come out unbidden, but he means them more than he’s meant anything in his life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you,” he murmurs, watching the light sparkle  in Patrick’s eyes as he absorbs the words. His very being seems to grow as he lets out a little breath of relief. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you, David,” he replies, his tone deadly serious as he repeats the words again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as Patrick says it, it all comes pouring out. David throws himself at him and kisses him firmly on the lips. There is a small thunk as the picnic basket falls from Patrick’s hand and hits the floor but neither care enough to notice it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They enter the cottage, and lay the picnic out on the floor. Cheese, bread, and cider is placed out in front of them, a celebratory feast in their new home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David savours the taste of chocolate on Patrick’s tongue as they kiss against the hard stone floor. He pulls him closer nevertheless, wanting nothing more than to be surrounded in the feeling of Patrick’s solid form.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A crack of thunder makes them jump, but they don’t stop, laughing against each other’s lips as the rain begins to fall, violent hammerings against the roof and wind whistling against windows. They pay it no attention, too wrapped up in their embrace to pay it any mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hours after, Patrick pokes around the kitchen, humming and tutting at the lacking amenities. David sits and watches him, and pretends to be making a list of all the things they’ll need in the old sketchpad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, he documents through sketches the light in Patrick’s eyes as he talks. The dexterity of his fingers as he pulls open cupboards with such force that a door breaks off in his hand. The upside down smile he’d made when David had told him he loved him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick sits behind him on the bed, propped up by pillows and pulls out his guitar, strumming along a small rhythm as the rain continues to pour outside the window. His voice is soft and tentative as he sings in the cool quiet of their home.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Deep inside, both of us, could feel the Autumn chill.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Birds of passage, you and me, we fly instinctively.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When the summer's over and the dark clouds hide the sun.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Neither you nor I'm to blame when all is said and done.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>David rests his head back against the hard edge of the mattress and looks up at him as he sings the words, looking at his hands as he does so. With one palm out, David reaches out for Patrick’s thigh and rests his hand there, letting the words sink in.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It's been there in my dreams, the scene I see unfold,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Who at last, flesh and blood; to cherish and to hold.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Careless fools will suffer, yes, I know and I confess.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Once I lost my way when something good had just begun.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Lesson learned; it’s history when all is said and done.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick smiles down at him, continuing to pluck along to the song but his eyes don’t leave David’s face. The words wash over him, and David feels an overwhelming sense of peace as he listens to Patrick sing to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Standing calmly at the crossroads, no desire to run.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There’s no hurry anymore, when all is said and done.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The last song is of course, When all is Said and Done, and honestly, Pierce Brosnan doesn't do a bad job at that final song so you should definitely give it a listen if you haven't already.</p><p>Thank you again for reading! 🏝</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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